Day After Day
by FluffyCats22
Summary: "How do you pull off being so sneaky?" "It's called the art of being average." What happens when an antisocial genius comes in contact with the Host club? Comedy, drama, and romance ensues! ...And yes, that was an oxymoron. (Rewrite of Days)
1. Chapter 1

**Day After Day**

* * *

Chapter One: A Day Very Much Longer than Most Days

* * *

Therapy is stupid.

You walk into a room, sit down across some mister or missus, and they ask about how you feel.

From then on, you either a) awkwardly squirm and try to express yourself, or b) give the millennium old lie of "I'm okay. Can I leave now?" Either way, everything feels weird (and you can't leave), _and_ the therapist thinks you're crazy enough to buy another session.

Or, maybe I'm being biased. Mom always called 'one of those skeptics.' Therapy works for a ton of people. At least, that's what the magazines say. That's probably why Mom sent me here in the first place. She loves magazines. Though, she prefers modeling for them over actually reading them. Although, the magazine photographers like models more typically if they actually know what they're posing for—I'm getting off topic. Anyway, the therapy I'm having right now sucks.

"Adelaide, please try to focus. You've been staring at the wall for almost fifteen minutes, ignoring me. Please, tell me, or I'll have to call your mother: how have your recent prescriptions been working out?"

Ouch. I guess just daydreaming wasn't the answer to these mandatory sessions.

If I were honest, I would say 'Prescriptions? I'm substance free, m'lady.'

But that would be too simple, too boring. This woman and my mom would nag me about the importance of proper medication until Armageddon.

I refocused on the women in front of me. Older, in her late fifties, maybe early sixties. Her brown hair was almost completely gray. She almost looked as bored as I was. _Almost._

"Pretty good." I lied with a smile, "When I take them before bed, I get to dream about Errol Flynn. He lets me use his bow…sometimes."

The therapist frowned. I guess she wasn't a fan of a certain man in green stealing wealth for the poor. "Now, dearie, don't use that tone with me." She said.

"Oh, I'm being completely serious." I kept going with the façade, my tone remaining friendly yet entirely thoughtful, "How do you think I'd look in green?" I gestured towards my plain, casual attire (I was wearing red), "Can women grow goatees? I still need to make a Christmas list. Is it too early? I mean, it is January. But, the early bird catches the pre-orders!"

Now the shrink was confused and struggling to keep up with my chatty act and my faux fascination with Robin Hood. I was dominating this nonexistent battle of wits. Her mouth parted as if she was about to say somethi-

"-Do you think I could pull off that gaze of his? Y'know the one where he justs," I looked, tilting my head slightly towards the left, and finally focusing on the corner where the walls and roof met, just diagonal of me, "looks into the distance?"

"Do you enjoy old movies, Adelaide?"

"They're alright, ma'am. I just," I looked directly into her eyes, "wanted to relate to you. Try to make connections. You seem to like the classics."

"Are you implying that I'm old?"

Ooh boy, this is where it gets fun.

The women paused, then shook her head, "Fine. This isn't going anywhere." She said earnestly, "I'll change the topic since this one seems to cause discomfort. How do you feel about moving to Japan to live with your father?"

I stood straight up out of my plushy chair and looked at an imaginary watch.

"Oh wow, look at the time, ladies and gentlemen, it's—"

* * *

 _Ding_

"—time to unfasten your seatbelts and check your carry-on items. Ladies and gentlemen, I repeat, we have landed in Japan and it is time—"

My eyes creaked open. People shuffled. An engine rumbled. Seat belts unclipped. The voice on the speaker kept repeating and repeating. I guess that's how it got into my dream. Or maybe I would call that a light nightmare. I paused mid-blink. That's an oxymoron. I resumed my groggy blinking as I stretched my arms out into the open air and peeked out of the window of the flight. After over twelve hours of airtime, we had just landed on solid ground in Japan.

"Yippee," I mumbled, grabbing my things and joining the line of the myriad of people trying to exit the aircraft and touch Japanese soil.

Just another long day.

* * *

Which kept getting longer and longer. After two hours of Customs and another hour of baggage claim, I got to spend forty-five minutes searching for my chauffeur and new caretaker. I spooked him. He didn't see me coming.

His name is Percy.

"So Peter, how long does it take to get to our humble abode?" I said, ducking into a blue sports car.

"Miss Adelaide, I see your mother was not wrong when she said you had an attitude," The man with tan skin and dark hair wearing a snazzy suit laughed, his English enunciated perfectly, "Though, I will insist you call me by my actual name: Percy. I _know_ you can remember that." He adjusted his sunglasses then turned the ignition of the car, "We will be at your new home in about twenty minutes."

New home? He made me sound like I was some adopted puppy.

"Sounds good, Paul."

I heard a sigh from driver's seat as I slipped in my ear buds. Clicking play on my phone, an audiobook starting to play.

My stomach growled. I wonder if they'll feed me. Okay, now I felt like an adopted puppy.

We eventually arrived at one of my father's estates i.e. my 'new home' for probably the rest of high school. Large gates led into rolling hills and a majestic fountain and a big fancy house with giant pillars—blah blah blah. It was –long story short—a fancy mansion and estate somehow located just outside of Tokyo. Just another of my father's dozen or so houses, apparently.

I slipped off my earbuds and tucked them into my pocket. After pulling up to the front entrance, Percy and I exited the car. Percy tossed the keys to one of the waiting servants, whom I assumed to be the valet. I wonder how many cars daddy-o had left at this house? Not that I can drive any of them, anyway.

"Okay, Adelaide, where to first? Would you like a tour of your home?" Percy grinned at me, gesturing wildly to my extravagant surroundings.

I thought about it for a moment while staring at a marble statue of a naked dude eating grapes in the entry hallway.

Hmm….grapes. But also protein would be nice…

I held a hand to my rumbling stomach and looked at Percy.

"Can I have a PB&J?"

His eyebrow quirked, "What's a…'PB&J'…?" I caught him off-guard. He sounded out the letters in such a way that I knew now that English wasn't his first language. At least not American English.

I shook my head solemnly—this was truly tragic, "It's peanut butter jelly time…in a sandwich." That clearly didn't help Percy's comprehension of peanut butter and jelly sandwich at all, "Where's the kitchen?" I had to take action.

* * *

Three gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwiches later, I wandered the house.

Pretty big. Probably too big. I'm lost already. Oh wait, there's the library.

As the SpongeBob narrator used to say: "A. Few. Hours. Later."

* * *

"Adelaide, I finally found you! Isn't it time to go to bed?" Percy stuck his head through the colossal wooden doors leading to the two-story library.

I made a grunt noise, taking my head out of my current read, "…What time is it?" I dared to ask.

"11:30 pm." Percy replied, raising an eyebrow at my huddled, blanketed position.

"Oh, that's nothing," I said quickly, ducking back into the book.

"You're jetlagged. It's best that you at least attempt to adjust to the time zone here. It shouldn't be that hard to fall asleep—you've been up for hours."

I didn't reply and turned another page.

Percy sighed. I'm pretty sure the man was questioning both my upbringing and my age based on my stubborn reading and surrounding book fort (Four hardback walls of impenetrable texts. Come at me.) Honestly, I questioned those aspects of myself on a regular basis. But hey, at least I was rich.

"You have _school_ tomorrow."

I blinked, "…I'll sleep in class."

"You're in the most advanced freshmen class. If your grades drop or if the teacher calls, I will be informing your moth—"

"Goodnight!" I leaped over the book fort and ran past Percy into the hall still clutching the book I had been reading. I had no idea where my room was, but I'm sure this hallway will take me right there, "Don't take down the fort! It's my secret base!" I called over my shoulder.

I heard Percy sigh behind me.

"Thanks, Putin!" I added quickly and turned a corner, entering the darkness.

* * *

Three hours of bumbling around this dark labyrinth of a home and six more hours of sleeping in a bed that could nest a baby whale, I felt refreshed yet homesick.

Refreshed that I got six hours of sleep. I could get used to being somewhat responsible.

Homesick because I missed the fact that living in apartment never led to using ten minutes to find the bathroom and an additional forty-five minutes of my life to find the kitchen. And man, oh man, I hoped I could find this place at night because midnight snacks are _so_ my thing. Though, chugging a dozen pancakes that a cook made for me as a rushed breakfast wasn't bad either.

And then there was school. The first day of school. _My_ first day of physical school in almost fourteen months. And, I looked monstrous. Frills. A needlessly long dress. Ruffled long sleeves. White tights and nice shoes. Summer yellow in _January._ An impeccably large bow. See, I wasn't much of a fashionista, but considering my mom is somewhat of a fashion icon, and my bedtime stories from my younger days mainly consisted of said mother showing me her pages in fashion magazines, I was more than well-versed in clothing than I would like to admit or demonstrate. And this outfit, oh lordy, felt like a throwback to the late nineteenth century. The headmaster had some…interesting tastes.

"Honestly, are you _sure_ I don't have to wear a corset because I mean at this rate, it's either go all in or nothing, right?" I said jokingly to Percy in the car.

"You look nice."

I quirked an eyebrow at the man in sunglasses, twirling my finger through my low side ponytail, "Do we have a summer uniform?"

"No."

I refrained from letting my mouth drop. Summer and late spring were not going to be fun under these five layers of poof, "Okay then." I resigned myself, letting go of my dark brown hair and pulling out my earbuds to continue my audiobook.

"Do you…" Percy averted his eyes from the road for a brief second, glancing at me quizzically, "…speak Japanese?"

I paused, my hands about to place the earbuds into my ears. "Yes?"

"How did you learn? When did you learn?" Percy pried, suddenly concerned.

I dropped my hands, "Uh…I did some Rosetta Stone on the plane here."

Percy flinched, his dark sunglasses drooped slightly. I could see his exposed dark eyes widen.

"And I read a Japanese dictionary last night!" I added quickly.

Percy let out yet _another_ sigh, "I suppose that'll do." He said, "Your mother informed me of…your abilities. Nonetheless, here we are" He pulled up to what could've been the gaudiest school I had ever seen.

It was _pink._

"Oh, great. I see the uniform fits the school," I muttered under my breath, seeing all of my now equally obnoxiously clothed peers exit cars and enter the academic palace. The human equivalent of yellow puffballs and ritzy Smurfs swarmed the campus. My stomach dropped. There was clearly too much laughing for a school. All the girls had designer handbags. The refined glimmers of high-class cufflinks shined from the boys' sleeves. They all looked so… _preppy_ and _extroverted_. Not that I looked any different, but this would be a place my mom would've loved. And I already hated it.

Percy smiled, "Adelaide, welcome to Ouran Academy!"

I exited the car, "Please, call me Addie," I pleaded as I picked up my bag and straightened my back. I now knew that I needed a friend. And, I didn't think I wanted/was going to make any friends here.

Percy's grinned widened, "Have a good day, _Adelaide!"_ He called out as I shut the door.

My shoulders dropped. Even Percy was out to get me.

A stray cherry blossom petal hit my eye, the resulting irritation causing it to tear up a little.

I was surrounded by enemies.

* * *

And I was lost.

Okay, I'll admit it, I get lost easily. A real shock at this point, I know.

But I found directions in the form of a little blond boy's bodyguard. Funny story there. I may have spooked the kid and made him cry. But details, details. His accompanying student/bodyguard gave me terse directions to my classroom.

Rich kids are weird. Not that I'm excluding myself.

* * *

And then it was time for self-introductions. Which was also weird. We never had these back in the States.

As I stood before the classroom, I asked myself the question: how do I want to appear to these people?

Considering I didn't want to have anything to _do_ with these people and, instead, wished to embark on a lovely high school career full of reclusion, I decided to be completely average.

"Uh…" I began, purposefully emphasizing a lack of public speaking etiquette, "My name is…" My eyes wandered the room; my hands fidgeted with my dress, "Adelaide Suzuki….But you can just call me Addie."

People looked up from their desk. They hadn't even noticed me. Good, Addie, good. Become the student that never was. A few hands shot up. The introduction turned into a Q&A.

"What does your family do?"

"My father owns Suzuki Flora Company. So, uhhhh, we work within the plant market." I quickly moved onto the next question, averting the mention of my mother's career. Luckily, plants can be boring at face value, so the class didn't push the topic. Not to mention, my family had long ago decided that I go by my father's surname, so no one would immediately recognize who my mother was.

A few more questions were asked. What's your favorite color? Red. What's your favorite food? I'll eat anything edible. Any special talents? Again, I'll eat anything edible. Don't underestimate me, pigtails. (I didn't say the last part, but it was highly tempting). Where are you from? Overseas. How many jets do you own? None.

At that, everyone started to lose interest in learning about me. What they didn't know was that I didn't own any jets because Mom had read too many celebrity jet-induced tragedies that convinced her that owning a private jet was a bad omen. We fly commercial. Magazines love it. Fans love it. I had no idea if Dad had one. He probably would never let me use it, anyway. I've never cared either way until now.

At my new classmate's bored and unimpressed expressions, I now decided I liked it. Yes, my equally wealthy classmates, my Mom and I fly with the flock. Power to the plebs.

"Okay, that's enough questions class, Miss Suzuki, would you like take a seat?" The teacher gestured to the front right of the room. Third row from the front. The column next to the window. I restrained from fist pumping at the fact I was lucky enough to receive the classic anime protagonist seat. I needed these people to think I was an average person not a weeb. Because weebs attract other weebs, and I wasn't here to make friends.

I was here to look out the window and look bored or moody and then maybe take a well-deserved nap like every other protagonist, dammit!

* * *

To that extent, for every protagonist, there exists an antagonist.

In this story, the protagonist is me. The antagonist stands as the world. My ambition you might ask? To RULE THE WORL-Just kidding, that's too much work. My real goal comprises of hiding from civilization; I seek a life full or libraries, stupid internet jokes, endless all-you-can-eat buffets, and more books. In other words, I yearn for solitude.

And for that cause, I needed to make a friend.

Not just any friend. A female friend. A friend who was not too popular but not _too_ unpopular either…lest she be the clingy type. Someone who, not only knows the lay of this rich land but also comprehends the school's social hierarchy.

Enter Renge Houshakuji, the popular-kinda-annoying transfer student from France and my new desk neighbor.

"What do you mean that the popular hangouts are all in the library….!" I almost spat out my spaghetti at Renge's explanation. We sat alone at a lunch table in the cafeteria. Students walked back in forth, carrying various luxury meals.

"Well, here at Ouran Academy," Renge sipped her tea, "We value lineage and wealth."

"What's that supposed to do with books?" I said, incredulously.

She smiled, "Older books are better than new books. Think of the classics; their value grows with time. That indicates lineage."

"And wealth?" I said, hiding my deadpan behind an expression of faked interest. A good book was a good book. Was this girl really being serious? She sounded like a bad English teacher.

 _Clink!_ The tea clicked with its plate as Renge placed the cup down, "That one's obvious! Do you know how much Ouran has invested in filling in all of our libraries up with these classics! The wealthy seek to surround themselves with more wealth…in the most elegant way possible, of course."

That explains the four libraries this school has. I didn't understand how her explanation could clarify why all the students here couldn't abide by the universal library law of silence (which _is_ golden, after all. Shouldn't that have any worth to these dam—never mind.)

I nodded at Renge's words, hiding my disappointment then focused on stuffing my face with some more spaghetti. Needless to say, I was disillusioned. This was one of the few things I was looking forward to here at Ouran Academy. There were so many books—hundreds upon possibly thousands…but it felt like people outnumbered the volumes on every shelf whenever I step into those noisy libraries; It was…suffocating.

Though I also looked forward to the high-class food here, and _DAMN,_ this spaghetti marinara did NOT disappoint.

As I drowned my sorrows in my fourth plate of pasta, Renge coughed. I ignored her and continued to stuff my face; it wouldn't be first and certainly not the last time someone felt uncomfortable at the amount of food I ate. But I was here to get my tuition's worth, so let a salty girl eat her inhumanely large fill, dammit.

After cleaning off my plate, I let out a content sigh and met Renge's eyes. She looked puzzled, but she quickly snapped out of her daze when her brown eyes met my gray ones.

"If you're looking for quiet, there is one place that you might like. Though…." She trailed off, her gaze now averting mine.

"What?" I said urgently.

She shook her head, "…It might be off limits."

"I can break the rules."

"Okay, meet me during club times today at Music Room #3." Renge said, smiling.

I nodded resolutely, "Sounds good."

...

Every protagonist has an antagonist. With every hero lies at least one villain.

Emphasis on 'at least one.'

See, the majority of the world didn't care about me if I stayed a hermit in hiding. Sure, if I flashed my face in a magazine article or two, there'd be some interference. But those interferences are merely distractions. With strength and mental fortitude, I can always pick myself up if I trip.

But, within the vast populations of the world, there exists a cold-blooded nemesis that rises above the rest, only seeking my doom. She, the boss monster, lies in wait, digging bottomless pitfalls in my path, seeking to knock me out for good-for her own personal gain. To trap me in something I could never climb out of.

I'll spoil something-give a forewarning. I've already met my arch nemesis. Her name is Renge.

And now, I've fallen into her custom-made pit of Hell.

I think you can guess what happens next.

Hint: Wax Floors.

* * *

A/N: And that's the first chapter! I hope you all enjoy it. In case you don't already know, this is a rewrite of another story of mine called Days. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and have a lovely day!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Today's Cleaning Day in Hell**

As soon as I walked into Music Room #3, I knew something terrible was brewing. Clear warning signs presented themselves all over the room.

First of all, rose petals. How _cliché_. The smell was suffocating; they're also flying and sticking to my hair.

Secondly, boys. Attractive boys. Attractive RICH boys. I've gotten to know too many of my mother's boyfriends to appreciate the value of an attractive face and wealth. (Spoiler: none unless you want a pretty cover photo. Or a new car. I want neither.)

Third, Renge _just_ shut the door behind me. I feel ambushed. Is this a kidnapping?

Fourth, I'm hungry. I think that's reason enough to leave.

And finally, just as I was about to turn around to reopen and exit the broad wooden doors, I heard six words that made my blood run cold.

"Welcome, to the Ouran Host Club!"

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh _hell_ to the no.

"RengeI' ," I announced through my teeth and speed walked to the door. I brushed past a yellow warning sign.

"Ah! Where are you going?"

"I'mhungryleavingwe'renotfriendsBYE." I kept moving. No looking back.

"You can't leave me!" There was a desperate note in her voice.

And then, Renge the Evil tackled me. We slid across the floor in a brutal struggle. She tried to pin me down. I, of course, fought back.

"Oh, it's just Renge."

"Lame."

"Hey, did you bring any cake?"

"Honey…you just ate."

"Did you procure the cleaning supplies like I asked, Renge?"

" _Get the hell off me_!" I said, struggling to push Renge off me.

" _No, I need you stay! You're my way out_!" Renge grumbled through her teeth in reply, grappling with my swinging arms.

"Who's that person…?"

"Ah! I didn't notice her! Good catch, Haruhi!"

"Are they…fighting?"

"Fight, fight, fight!"

Great, now we were a spectacle. Time to put my self-defense classes into practice. I pushed the palm of my hand into Renge's chin in a harsh uppercut. Renge grunted and fell back onto the floor next to me. This was my chance.

"Oh! She can fight!"

"Haruhi, close your eyes! This is violence!"

"Shut up, Tamaki."

 _"Suck it!"_ I said, rolling to my stomach. I pushed up off of the ground to a standing position. And then I ran like hell to the door.

"Wait, Mori, we know her!"

"….mhm."

"Is this new contender going to make it out alive?"

Of course, my right foot immediately slipped forward, rushing my body forward and displacing my balance. In the corner of my vision, I saw the yellow warning sign that I had brushed past earlier.

It said: "Beware of Slippery Floors."

 _Goddammit._

Of all days, it was cleaning day in Hell.

"Annnnnnd-"

I started falling to the ground. I damned my luck as the world turned upside down.

"-She trips!"

My head banged against the freshly waxed floors.

My surroundings dimmed; my consciousness began to fade.

"Ouch! Renge rises up for an unexpected victory!"

This was definitely a kidnapping. Probably a group of Mom's crazy fans. I tried to get up and keep running, I really did. But I lost to Renge, to the world. I closed my eyes and accepted my defeat.

After what felt like a second later, I opened them back up with the following thoughts.

Okay, Addie, really, I know drama (both figuratively and literally) has played a bigger part in your life than you would ever like to admit, but 'losing to the world,' really? Stop it. Don't be melodramatic. The world's not insane, you are. Get over it.

I sat up, looked at the steel cage that I was contained in, and promptly lied back down.

Okay-maybe-not.

Please be a dream. Please be a dream. Please be a dre—

"Ah, I see you've awakened."

No, you're wrong. Alter-Addie. You were too optimistic as always. I sat back up and met the gazes of seven handsome yet terrifying boys. And then there was Renge the Evil prowling behind them. I felt the steel ground beneath me with my hand. Cold. Smooth. I pinched my cheek. Yep, this was not a dream.

Okay I'm pretty sure the world's insane. And that insanity's infectious because-

"Where the hell am I and what do you want from me?" I said, slowly standing up and straightening my uniform. Maybe if I use too many potty words I'll scare them.

Or not.

A man in glasses stepped forward, "I apologize for our rudeness, Ms. Suzuki, but I would like to reiterate our welcome from earlier." He made a sweeping gesture to his surrounding posse, "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club."

A shiver went down my spine. Or maybe that was my stomach rumbling. Either way, this was a bad situation.

"And what do you want from me?"

"Your services." He said, pulling out a thick file from nowhere, "Or more specifically, your free club time. Since the school year started just a bit ago, all of our fellow students have already committed to themselves to other extracurricular."

"Why don't you just ask one of your customers?" I replied, narrowing my eyes at the man in glasses. I wasn't going to pretend not to know what a host club was. Just, why do they have them at a high school?

Then I remembered that these boys were both handsome and rich…and probably bored.

Ugh, ego-centric teenagers.

"Hmm…they're not very suitable. I would think they would have trouble focusing." The teenager shrugged, "My name is Kyoya Ootori. You are Adelaide Suzuki, correct?"

I nodded stiffly and gulped. This guy was an Ootori. This might get bad.

"I have read your file," Kyoya stated, holding up the thick file, "And it seems like you don't have any active interest in any of Ouran's programs. You have enough free time to become our co-manager."

I bit my lip. This _was_ bad. I thought for a moment. What if I just said no?

"I refuse to be your co-manager." I state plainly.

A pair of twins burst out laughing.

Kyoya smiled, "I'm afraid we can't let you do that,"

Yeah, that'd be too easy, wouldn't it?

He opened the file, "Now, what can I we do make you say yes? I'd hate to force you into this without negotiation." He flipped a page, "Hmm…I wonder what would happen if I released your credentials to the press?"

"I'd sue your ass." I bit back, refusing to fall without a fight. Sure, glasses, you're rich with assets, but I've tangoed with the press before. I got big bucks and lawyers too.

The twins laughed louder. Probably because I was challenging the Ootori family of all things. If I were in their position, I'd laugh too. Though, that still didn't stop me from wanting to punch them in the guts, but alas, these cold metal bars prohibit me from killing them. Yet.

 _Grrrrr…_

I rubbed my empty stomach. Ugh, this whole starvation thing makes it hard to think.

"Hmm…" A small boy walked up to the bars, "Ah! Mori, this is the ghost from earlier?"

A tall man followed, "…ghost?"

"The lost one!" The child said, glancing back at his huge companion.

"Ah."

Oh right, I freaked this kid out earlier. I'm glad my spookiness has been forgiven.

The small blonde looked back to me, staring at me with the most adorable brown eyes I've ever seen.

I blinked. Addie, snap out of it, don't be charmed by a small cute child. He's may not be handsome, but he's cute. Cute boys = bad.

My stomach growled again. The boy tilted his head, "Are you hungry?"

I nodded numbly.

"Hmm…If you join us, I'll give you cake! Though, I don't like sharing…" The kid pulled cake out of nowhere. Pink layers of cake filled between with white frosting with a strawberry and whipped cream dabbled on top. I tightened my grip on my stomach, "But you're a ghost so…hmm…" He eyed the cake in his hands.

Strawberry shortcake.

Resist, Addie resist.

"…I also have chocolate! You could have that?"

"I'm in." I muttered in defeat, dropping my shoulders, "Just give me the cake."

Kyoya smirked and didn't say a word. He just wrote something in the file. My file.

"…Was it that easy?"

I'm weak.

"Good job, Honey!"

I resisted attractive boys just to lose to cake instead.

"Hmph. All part of the plan."

That's BS, Kyoya. Well, whatever. My high school career of solitude has officially spontaneously combusted because of hot, bored, rich boys and cake. Don't be jealous. I wouldn't be, seriously. Please.

Because, yes, they did let me out of the cage, and I did eat cake. They also laughed at me, if not with their mouths then with their eyes. The twins-who-I-want-to-strangle laughed especially hard with both their mouths and eyes. Bastards.

After giving my empty plate to the Honey, I went straight home not muttering a word to Percy, who tried to interrogate me about the school day for the entire drive to no avail. Kyoya had decided to spare me from working that period, so my shift starts tomorrow. Apparently having one manager for the host club was too much work at least when the manager is Renge. I cried a little bit…on the inside of course-I have a professional image to keep up now (and, who knows where the Ootori family plants their spies) because of the cake (it really was quite good) and my new job as co-manager.

* * *

 **Chapter 2.5: The Day Evils.**

Hi my name's Adelaide Suzuki. Call me Addie. What is my life?

"Manager get over here!" The twins called out from across the room.

"What do you want this time?" I said, walking over to the Hitachiin brothers. Imagine my joy when I found out that these two plus Haruhi were in my homeroom class. But that's a predicament for another time.

"Oh, there you are. We knew you were here somewhere. Here!" One of them pulled up a pink box from under the couch and presented it to me.

The other opened the box, "Tada! Here's some cake!"

They were making fun of me. Again.

I wanted to flip a finger and say 'fuck off' in a deadpan, but that didn't work too well last time, considering I stayed up until 5 am this morning doing paperwork for Kyoya as punishment. And I won't be forgetting the hassle it was to find and rent authentic Arabian royalty clothes for today's theme.

"Ah! You got cake!" Honey popped up behind me out of nowhere. I suspected he could probably smell cake from miles away, "Can you share some with me, Spoopy?"

Oh, sorry I lied. Reintroduction time:

Hi, I'm a ghost named Spoopy. Because I'm spook—wait, _spoopy._ I don't have a life. I ignored a maintenance sign, slipped, and ate some cake, which lead to a devil incarnate named Kyoya and his ever more sinister assistant named Renge the Evil taking my soul and sealing it within a terrible, terrible contract.

"Right, Spoopy, you should share this with Honey," Twin #1 smirked at me, emphasizing the item in his hand. Twin #2 laughed. The surrounding fangirls followed, drowning me in sea of judgement.

Kill me.

"Honey, you can have all the cake. I'm not hungry." I said with a smooth smile and a light tone, restraining my murderous urges. I shouldn't shed blood in front of an innocent child even if he is disguised as a high schooler; I might accidentally stain his bunny doll.

"Yay! Thank you! Spoopy" Honey chirped, snatching the whole cake box and bouncing back to his host chair.

"Is that it?" I said, looking at the twins pointedly.

"Hikaru, how did you get that scratch!?"

By shifting their attention to each other, they were ignoring me.

"Sorry, Kaoru…I fell…"

Kaoru made a grab for Hikaru's hand which had some sort of red mark or cut on it, "Let me look at it." He pulled his brother's hand to his face, "How can you be so clumsy?" He said, his voice dripping with concern.

Judging by how close that 'injured' hand was floating near Kaoru's lips, I knew where this is going. Also, I see through that stage makeup, fakers. But commenting on that would probably lead Kyoya to add more to my workload so not worth it.

"Okay bye then." I said quickly, turning around and heading back to my seat near Haruhi. Apparently he's clumsy too and broke a vase, so we're both trapped in the host club. We're not friends (don't look at me like that, I've only known him for 72 hours). Rather, we're comrades. We've lost the initial battle, but there still stands the war.

I sat down in a cushioned chair in Haruhi's circle and smiled. I may have even honored the group with a fake lighthearted giggle at one of the girl's jokes.

Why act like you fit in, Addie? You're a natural recluse! Well, lemme tell you somethin'.

To prevent the other girls in my class strangling me for earning the legendary position of Host Club co-manager, I decided to act as Haruhi's disturbingly regular client. I mean, it doesn't explain why Kyoya assigns me cleaning duty, or why Tamaki orders me to go buy and pickup things, or Honey's—actually I should probably say Mori's since Honey's gluttonous and forgetful (but he IS adorable)- tendency to give me a slice of cake here and there (bless their souls), or the twin's obsession with making fun of me ("It's okay, they make fun of _everyone_ " – Tamaki's BS consolation). But the thought of the girls around me not knowing my true role in the club comforts me; it's not like they notice my existence anyway since I'm 'spoopy' and sneaky. I take some pride in that. It shows that all my practice up until this point hasn't been for nothing. It's almost a consolation prize—a game of hide and seek in plain sight that nobody realizes is being played; it keeps me going. Besides, how could this situation get any worse?  
….

It's going to get worse, isn't it?

 _Kreeen!_ The doors to the club swung open. A young boy in an elementary school uniform ran into the room.

A moment passed as the boy looked around and announced,

"King, make me a host!"

It got worse.

* * *

Hi again, my name is Adelaide 'Spoopy' Suzuki.' I'm a ghost, manager, high school student, _and_ now a delinquent (wait for it). My phrase of the day is 'third time's the charm!'

"We have a new what!?" I exclaimed to Haruhi.

"A…new host. You missed it the other day." Haruhi said with uncertainty.

"Seriously? Why I am not surprised." I had snuck out of the music room when Renge the Evil showed up. I tell Kyoya we're 'splitting the hours.' Wink.

"Yes. His name is Shiro." A girl seated to my right said happily.

"He's the naughty type!" Another girl inserted.

"You have to be kidding me. The _naughty_ type? Who made that up?" I retorted hotly.

"Renge." Haruhi replied with a slight shrug.

"Of _course,_ " I drawled, scanning the room in case a certain dirty blonde demon summoned itself at Haruhi's call.

Instead, my eyes landed on a familiar elementary schooler who had just entered the room. Brown hair. Dark eyes. A sinister (or…should I say naughty?) smirk.

Shiro the Naughty Type.

"Man, rich boys evil fast." I sighed.

"Did…you just use evil as a verb?" Haruhi said; I could see him looking at me oddly in the corner of my eye.

"Evil never stops, so why confine it as a noun-adjective? Wait, why is he going to the piano?"

"Tamaki's training him," I turned back to Haruhi as he explained the situation, "They both play piano. Shiro wants to impress a girl in his class that's moving away. That's why he wants to be a host. Though, I'm not sure how long he'll be around after the recital."

"Recital?"

"Yeah. Tamaki's giving Shiro piano training, so Shiro can perform with the girl."

"Ahh. How romantic." I said sarcastically and grabbed a handful of cashews from a bowl on a nearby table to snack on.

Piano music started to flow through the host club. Girls moved to the piano to watch Tamaki tutor Shiro.

"Ahh, so dreamy~"

"I wish my boyfriend played the piano."

"Isn't it so nice of Tamaki to teach Shiro piano!"

"I want Tamaki to teach me…!"

After a few minutes of listening to quaint music and Haruhi small talk with his guests whilst eating the host club's budget away via cashews (I'm not salty, just passive aggressive. Hah, bad puns.), I let out a content sigh. Today, was a good day.

That is, until someone spilled cream and lukewarm water all over my head.

 _Clack! Crash!_ The pitcher and cream holder hit the floor next to me.

"Agh! What the-!" I flinched, wiping my face.

"What is this? Milk?" I said, standing out of my chair, chugging the rest of the now-milky cashews into my mouth, chewing and swallowing them in an instant, and finally turning to face the culprit.

"Half-and-half procured from a small village in the Swiss Alps. The exact name slip-" Kyoya started from somewhere behind me.

"You! Why'd you do that?!" I said, ignoring Kyoya's explanation. I pointed at the culprit. It was Shiro; he stood before me innocently with an empty tray.

"Tamaki wanted me to bring over some commoner's coffee for the guests to try. I slipped and…" His eyes moved up and down my wet figure.

"Ka-bam?" I finished with a growing frown, "Slipped on what? There's nothing on the floor."

"I slipped on the banana."

I narrowed my eyes. This kid was the Naughty Type. Well, I oughta show him naughty.

"Is that your best excuse? Okay, where's the banana?"

Shiro looked around, "It's gone…" The boy's jaw dropped.

I clenched my fists; my gaze grew harsher.

"Uh…" He started to look nervous. Good, child, be afraid.

"So you're just lying." I said, passing an accusing glare at the boy, "Why'd you do it, man? Did someone put you up to this?" I've had too many pranks done to me, especially by the twins. I couldn't afford to have another demon join the club, just when I was finally adjusting. And, if that water had been hot rather than lukewarm, I could've gotten burned.

"What's the holdup?" Tamaki sauntered over to us.

Haruhi came to my side, "Shiro fell—"

"He faked it." I interrupted.

The natural host passed an annoyed glance at me, "Shiro _fell_ and spilled some hot water and cream on Addie," He reiterated.

Tamaki's eyes widened, "Is everyone okay? What about the coffee?"

"The coffee's fine. The container's seal remains intact," Kyoya said, picking up the fallen instant coffee container, "Addie, are you burned?"

"No." I replied firmly, "I got lucky. But this kid…" I turned my gaze back to Shiro and growled.

I could be imagining it, but I like to think he jumped in fear in response.

"…needs to apologize." I finished.

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Then show me the banana!"

"I can't believe you're fighting with an elementary schooler."

"Well, this is entertaining."

"It was there I swear! IDIOT!"

"YOU'RE AN IDIOT. I swear I'll fu-"

"AH! Cursing is a no-no in this family!" Tamaki jumped towards me and covered my mouth.

"Mmmhmdthethhh…!"

"Ha! Take that, hag!"

Haruhi hit Shiro in the head, "You're not off the hook yet. Where's the banana?"

Shiro paused and looked around the room for a second time, "Uhhh…"

I stepped hard on Tamaki's foot with the heel of my shoe; he yelped and removed his hand from my mouth.

"Don't trust him! He's the naughty type!" I shouted at Haruhi and glared at Shiro.

"Mother, we have a delinquent in the family!" Tamaki cried from behind me, probably hugging his hurting foot.

Just as I was recalling the school's policy on interschool fighting, a motor rumbled.

"Oh-hoh-hoh! I see we have a fight here!" Renge appeared on a rotating platform, "May I suggest a solution."

"Fight? I don't know what you're talking about." I said sweetly, turning my focus to Renge, still angry about this whole hey-managing-this-club's-hard-let's-trap-you-in-a-cage-and-force-you-to-join-and-do-my-work-thing that happened the other day—more angry about that than my current beef with Shiro at least, "But, if you want one," I said, grinning while walking towards Renge, "I would be happy to be your first." I cracked my knuckles.

Now, in reality, I've never been in a fight. At least, a _real_ fight. Stage combat, sure. Intensive self-defense, sure. Read a ton of action books with lots of fighting and gore, easy. A teeny-tiny scuffle with the girls in middle school. Yeah, yeah, yeah—gotta live a little. But a one-on-one pummel with no supervision or guidance? Nope. But that moment begot a red mist; I was PMSing like crazy and ready to tear Renge the Evil apart.

I grinned maliciously, staring at Renge. She froze like a deer in headlights. That only made my grin wider as I knew I was the incoming truck.

"Mori, stop them!" Tamaki called out.

"Hm."

Long arms hooked around me and lifted me from the ground.

"No fighting!" Honey declared, appearing out of nowhere.

Honey and Mori had entered the scene.

Kyoya stepped forward, adjusting his glasses, "Renge, what is your proposition?"

"Well," Renge said, relaxing now that she was out of harm's reach (for now), "I thought we could settle this with a friendly competition."

"Explain."

"I got the idea when Tamaki called Addie a delinquent. What if we had a delinquent theme!" Renge grew excited, "It would be the perfect event to promote Shiro's specialty. And, Addie could be the delinquent girl! Whoever attracted more customers by the end of the day would win; the loser would admit fault in this situation," The otaku said.

"That's too extreme." I muttered quietly. For just an apology, this was too much work.

"I like it!" Tamaki exclaimed, smiling with new exuberance, "Wonderful idea!"

"It would be good for business," Kyoya agreed.

"Eh—"

Oh no, _they_ arrived.

"—But Spoopy isn't suited to be a host."

The twins appeared, apparently having eavesdropped the entire situation. A wave a frustration followed by a feeling of slight confusion rose within me. Wait, were they defending me?

"There's no way she could pull it off. She's too lame and boring." The duo said in sync.

Okay 'defending' was an exaggeration, but I'll take it.

"Oh, I'm sure Addie could pull it off." Kyoya said, a glint in his glasses, "She has the background for it."

"Background?" Haruhi inquired.

"Spoopy," Honey's eyes widened, "Are you a criminal?"

I met his sweet, innocent gaze and opened my mouth to reply.

"Not quite," Kyoya answered for me, "You'll figure it out." He smiled—a sinister sight.

I inwardly cringed, trying not to ponder on how much Kyoya knew exactly about me.

"Ehhhhhh." The twins looked at me with a criticizing look.

They were skeptical of me, "Well…." Mori finally put me back onto the ground; I rolled my shoulders, grimacing slightly at how the wet cloth rubbed against my skin, "…I could pull something off like that if I wanted to..." I said quietly with a little bit of pride in my voice.

"Then it's settle—" Tamaki started to announce

"—But what's in it for me?" I finished on a louder note, looking at Kyoya.

"And me!" Shiro inserted, "This isn't my fault, so I why do I even need to deal with this!" Then, under his breath he muttered, "I didn't even know anyone was sitting there."

Sitting there? He didn't notice me?

"Shiro, it's great practice for you!" Tamaki said, swinging his arms open with glee, "A bit of competition never hurts-especially in the host business." He grinned.

I kept thinking about Shiro's words. If he didn't notice me, then…did he actually slip?

"Hmmm…Fine." Shiro replied, "But if I win, Spoopy not only has to apologize for accusing me-she has to become my slave."

But where's the banana?

The twins snickered at me.

Wait a minute. I narrowed my eyes at the twins.

"Deal." Tamaki nodded.

"No deal!" I said automatically, while glaring at the twins. They grinned maliciously at me, surely thinking I was going to be a ten year old's slave for the rest of my life.

I could see something, just peeking out from behind them…

Tamaki frowned, "What would you want more than the apology?"

…It was a banana, hidden behind one of the Hitachiin brother's back.

Shiro was innocent. It was _their_ doing.

"I don't need an apology, I believe Shiro," I said, looking back at Tamaki firmly; Shiro perked up at my words. I was immediately more motivated for this competition now. But not for the apology—I wanted to get back at the twins, "But I'll still go along with this. If I win, I want a get-out-of-jail-free card." And I get to see the twins' shocked faces.

"Huh?" Tamaki gave me a quizzical look.

"She means that if we try to make her do something, she can get out of it. Only works once, though." Kyoya elaborated.

"Alright. Fair enough." Tamaki said, nodding approvingly.

"And," I looked back at the twins.

"And?"

"The twins have to be the managers for a week."

"No way." The twins retorted in sync, glaring at me.

"I'm afraid that won't be happening, Addie," Kyoya stated, "They are valued hosts."

"Fine," I said. I'll just settle for their shocked expression when I win this thing, "Just the free-out then."

"Very well!" Tamaki announced, "The day after tomorrow, we will have a delinquent themed day! Open for men and women to attend. And," He gestured dramatically to Shiro and me, "the main event will be our guest hosts: Shiro the Naughty Type and Addie the Delinquent Girl!"

Ready when you are, naughty boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Day for Delinquents

* * *

Forty eight hours passed quickly, but I was ready.

Ready to be late to my own competition. Psyyych. Did I say forty-eight hours had passed? I meant forty-eight and a HALF.

It is universally known that all delinquents confined to attend a commitment must arrive late. Fashionably late. That's the I'm-a-bad-boy/girl flag number one. Flag number two is the attire. Right now, I'm wearing a classic black school jacket (that most of the other hosts should also be wearing for the sake of matching) that remained unbuttoned to expose my excessively bandaged chest and stomach. Along with oversized black slacks and a chain hanging around my neck. My hair was unbound and slightly tousled, and I had added highlighted hair extensions to look like I had bleached some strands of it. I had also tied a white strip of cloth around my forehead. I decided against makeup; delinquent girls don't' prep themselves for _anyone._

Was this overkill? Yes.

Did the club budget pay for this? Yep.

Did that make all this act worth it? Hell to the yeah!

Flag number three is the attitude. The curled lip, the high chin, cocked just slightly to the side, the slouched posture, hands-in-pockets, and the careless stride. I had to recall all the female delinquent characters I knew, recognize their stereotypes, and copy that into my own character.

Easy.

I kicked open the door to Music Room #3 halfway through club time.

"Welcome to the—"

"Spoopy?" Honey tilted his head, confused at my persona.

"You're late." The twins deadpanned.

I grinned maliciously and sauntered into the room, "You called?"

I was right; the host club's outfits matched mine. I fit right in with the exception that I was obviously the only girl. There were already several guys other than the host club crowded in the room. I bet they came just on the notion of hearing that there would be a girl host. I heard murmurings throughout the room. I ran a hand through my hair, ignoring all of them and scanning the room, "Yo! Haruhi, Where's naughty?"

Nicknames are ruffian things, right?

"Uh—"

"Ah! Over there. Hoy!" I called out to Shiro, who was sitting on a couch some distance away, surrounded by a massive crowd girls. He was the only host not wearing the delinquent outfit; rather, he chose to wear his green elementary schooler uniform.

Within seconds, I stood before Shiro's couch. I slouched forward and stared at one of the girls who sat next to Shiro.

"Are you my little bro's girlfriend?" I tilted my head and gave a squinted to the girl. Yes, while Shiro was my competitor, I now decided he was my brother. At least until the club session ended.

"Uh…Um…" She stuttered.

"Get out." I said, smiling, "I wanna sit with my bro."

For delinquents, offense is the best defense.

"Ah!" The girl jumped forward and left the chair.

"Scary…"

"Who's she?"

"The delinquent girl's finally here."

"She's pretty cute."

"What's her name?"

I causally fell into the seat next to Shiro and propped my legs up on the coffee table.

"Oy, what was that for?" He said, glaring at me.

"Just wanted to see what's up with my bro?" I slid my arm around the elementary schooler's shoulder, "She," I pointed my thumb in the direction the girl ran away in, "wasn't good enough for ya."

"I'm not your 'bro.' Get out." He retorted.

I gave a loud laugh and pinched his cheeks, "Ah, isn't that so cute. Look at you! Trying to be all tough." I grinned as I moved his cheeks all directions.

"Awww"

"They're siblings!"

"They say 'get out' in the same way…"

"She's his role model…!"

"Gerr off!" Shiro said (or rather, attempted to say). He pushed my hands off his face and frowned. Then, he attempted to unwrap my arms from shoulder.

I tightened my grip, refusing to let off.

"Ehhhh, wanna wrestle, little man?" I said, broadening my playful smirk. Shiro continued his attempt to push me off. He failed, and the girls around us giggled.

I gave the laughing girls a death glare, " _Whatchu lookin' at?!"_ I called out in my best punk voice. The girls stopped giggling. Some backed away, their spots to be filled with interested men. I continued the banter, teasing Shiro and shouting unorthodox things at the surrounding men; a few of them I recognized as students of Class D, the predominately yakuza class. They probably liked their women tough.

The clutch about being the mysterious delinquent girl is that, here at Ouran Academy, all the girls tend to be preppy. They have to keep up appearances and relationships. Also, the confining bright yellow and poofy girl's uniform doesn't open to much to punk fashion, so even the yakuza girls in Class D have a hard time expressing themselves. Not to mention all the drama with arranged marriages and yakuza family relations, so many of the students have certain family ties that disallow them from dating one another. At least, that was my impression of things.

So, let's just say I'm a rarity in the community. Well, only if I was actually a delinquent, not just pretending to be one. Get cucked, yakuza. Also, by scaring away Shiro's crowd and promoting my own by making fun of Shiro, this was a good situation.

Not to mention the other hosts' reactions. Kyoya smiled at the crowd and profits I gathered. After recovering from shock at my demeanor, Tamaki gave me the thumbs up. Haruhi and Honey complimented me ("You're a very good…actor." "Spoopy, you're so tough~!") Mori didn't do anything, but silence is acceptance. Shiro might hate me, but I was teaching him a lesson in modesty and hopefully preventing another host from joining this circus of a club. And, I may have glimpsed the twins' jaws dropping. It only lasted for an instant, but I swear it happened. And it was glorious.

But there turned out to be one iffy.

One that I discovered almost forty five minutes later.

Yakuza women, while rare, are possessive.

"The hell's going on here?" A heavy voice cut through the chatter, silencing the room.

I looked up, feeling small chill down my spine. A tall woman stomped through the crowd of boys towards me.

People started to whisper.

"That's the bancho!"

"We have bancho?"

"Shhh…don't let her hear you. She's terrifying"

Especially when they're apparently the school bancho i.e. Ouran's gang leader.

Five minutes away from earning my get-out-of-jail free card and completely owning the twins, I found out that the gang leader of the school was both a girl and the jealous type.

And tall, very tall.

" _Who the Hell are you?"_

I stopped tickling Shiro (he's screaming bloody murder, but I know he's laughing on the inside) and looked up at the tall high schooler. Definitely a second or third year. She stood before me, dark brown eyes and long, straight, deep brown-black hair with bleached blond tips. Shockingly pale, suggesting a mixed lineage; I guess we all can't be confined to manga-delinquent stereotypes. She wore a tousled version of the boy's uniform with shirt untucked and buttons undone.

Shiro stopped laughing, and for a moment, I think we were thinking the same thoughts:

Man was she tall. And scary. I should run away before she gives me a broken nose. Or face. Or entire body.

But with five minutes left on the clock, I couldn't break character. I could improvise through this, right?

Right!?

"Who the hell are you?" I replied cooly, scanning her figure. Her shoulders were broad two. She was like, a female half-European, half-Japanese Mori.

"Ouran's bancho." She said tilting her head, "Who're you?"

I rested chin on her knuckle and smiled mockingly, "I'm just your typical delinquent girl, hanging with my bro," Let's _neve_ r give her my real name. I tilted my head towards Shiro, who just sat there wide-eyed, staring at the newcomer.

The bancho assessed us, her dark eyes squinting, "You're treading on dangerous territory. These are my men you're charming."

"I'm just having a bit of fun." I shrugged nonchalantly, "Got a problem with that?"

Please don't kill me.

"I do," She narrowed her eyes, "Fight me."

 _…Fight you…!?_

"A fight?" I said with false confidence, using all my willpower not to show my inner freak-out.

"You, me, club time, Friday. Right here." The bancho said, pointing at the ground, "The first incapable to continue fighting wins."

"She'll do it." Kyoya appeared behind the couch—behind me.

"Ha!?" I gave an almost out-of-character outburst and looked at Kyoya. I didn't want to die!

Kyoya gripped my shoulder, and another chill went through my spine.

The bancho smiled, "That's what I like to hear." She met my eyes, "Game on." The real delinquent girl said and left the music room.

* * *

This wasn't a game. This was my life.

I sat there frozen in shock, staring at the door where she had left. Shiro did the same. When I regained my composure, the room was empty except for the other hosts.

"That was…something."

"Are we a delinquent club now, Takashi?"

"…"

"Great job, Addie! Amazing act!"

"LOL—"

"—Yeah, good job, Spoopy!"

I decided I could finally break character.

"Kyoya, what the Hell!?" I stood up abruptly and turned towards glasses.

My exclamation didn't faze him, "A show like this would boost business monumentally," He said with a shrug.

"She's going to kill me! Are you crazy?" I walked towards Kyoya, frowning.

"Of course she's not going to," Kyoya replied, adjusting glasses, "What do you take us for, savages?"

More like sadists with too much free time and money. I opened my mouth to spill some more choice words.

Until Honey tackled me from behind.

"It's okay, Spoopy!" He said with an adorkable smile, clinging to my back. I looked at him, my eyes probably full of terror, "Takashi and I can help you! Today's Tuesday, We a couple days till' Friday, right?"

"Mm." Mori nodded.

"Wonderful idea!" Tamaki interjected, "Honey's a renowned martial artist and Mori's highly skilled in Kendo." He smiled and waved a finger, "That delinquent never said you couldn't bring weapons!"

Pointedly ignoring Tamaki's optimism, I turned my head away Honey and towards Kyoya; Honey's soft curls brushed against my cheek.

"I think I beat Shiro today. Can I use my get-out-of-jail free card?"

"No."

"Oh." I turned my gaze back to Honey and quietly said, "…When do we start?"

Honey grinned. He had a cute smile; his breath smelled like sugar.

* * *

But his training wasn't nearly as sweet.

It was very, very, quite literally, _salty._ Salt-inducing. Both figuratively and literally.

I had taken self-defense classes; I have a tiny bit of experience in stage combat. So, even though I was most definitely out of shape, I liked to think I had some athletic ability. Not a prodigy or anything, but I could take the occasional cardio rundown. I even used to go to the gym with…

With…

"One minute left," Mori said, towering over me holding a stopwatch.

Focus, Addie, focus.

Even with previous workout experiences in calculation, I couldn't take _this._

"Don't lose form, Spoopy!" Honey cheered, patting my head, "Keep your back up more!"

Keeping my back up would be easier if you didn't sit on it, Honey. My arms shook, threatening to collapse. I felt sweat bead and drop from my forehead. I tasted the salt of it on my lips. Black spots started to frame my vision.

"I…give up." I declared with a huff, and my plank form buckled. My entire body fell flat on the turf. I breathed heavily and rolled onto my back, forcing Honey to get off me.

Honey moved to stand in front of me. Our eyes met. I didn't have the energy to look away, and, if I closed my eyes, I probably wouldn't have the energy to open them again.

He looked disappointed. "I thought you could at least break the seven-minute mark…" He murmured.

His frown almost made me feel bad. Almost.

"That might be enough for today." Mori moved to stand next to Honey.

Funny, from this angle, the two fighting monsters looked much closer in height.

"I would like that." I panted out, half-wondering if I could get up or had to ask Mori to carry me to the girls' locker room entrance.

"But we've only been at it for…for…" Honey's face scrunched.

"160 minutes," I said, deepening my breaths. Almost three hours. Okay, maybe I won't pass out now.

"You should run another mile!" Honey announced.

Never mind. Darkness, please take me out of my misery.

"Or practice more punches…hmm. Your kicks are still a bit rough…"

"The fatigue would worsen her technique," Mori said.

Mori, while his words are few, they are merciful. For the past week, he has been my savior. If I survive this ordeal, I will tell my children tales of the great Mori the Merciful.

…

I'm dehydrated too, aren't I?

"Oh, you're right!" Honey smiled and looked at Mori, "I guess we should call it quits, huh? Well, ending a bit early should be fine, I mean," He looked back down at me, and his angelic smile broadened, "The fight's tomorrow after all!" Honey reached out a hand to pull me up.

I gulped and grabbed his hand, taking a wobbly stand. Everything hurt. Everything felt numb. At the same time. I don't understand muscles.

"Oy!"

"You finally done?"

Oh great. The twins.

"Hika-chan, Kao-chan, what are you doing here?" Honey said, moving to meet the approaching duo.

I stayed where I was. Mori silently passed me my water bottle. As I sipped water, I could faintly hear their conversation.

"Not much," Twin A said.

"We were just around because of a group project." Twin B continued.

They shrugged in unison, "But Haruhi also part of the project, but she went home, so we got bored of working."

She? I frowned. Did I mishear that? Ah, whatever. Dehydration creates delusion.

"Oh, okay! We're just about done for today," Honey said cheerfully in response, "Spoopy's gonna crush it tomorrow!"

Or get crushed if I don't think of a more reliable plan than purely relying on the training from this impromptu martial arts boot camp.

"Gotcha."

"How's Spoopy doing?"

They moved around Honey and towards me. The twins circled me with mischievous smiles.

I would've shuddered, maybe showed them the birdy or pull off some of my new moves-if I had felt extra frisky. I deduced that with all my major efforts this week that maybe I could outrun Kyoya and his minions after the act. But other than the muscles used for procuring water into my system, my body seems to be largely unresponsive i.e. I can't move shit. How am I standing, you tell me.

Although It was fun to imagine what could've been.

"How ya feeling champ?" Twin A said mockingly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Ready for the big day?" Twin B added and patted my back, pushing me forward.

My legs would've t collapsed if it weren't for pure willpower that allowed them to stumble and regain balance. So that's what's keeping me up. Mind over matter.

Too tired to form a meaningful retort, I just glared at the two brothers.

"Ooh scary."

"She's got that delinquent stare down!"

Their mischievous grins just seemed to widen.

"Whatcha holdin?" Honey peered at Twin B.

"Ah, this?" He held up a brown bag.

"It's a gift for Spoopy," Twin A finished.

They both looked at me, "Take it." The said in sync, one of them holding out the bag to me.

Their deadpan told me I didn't have a choice in the matter. I took it quietly, not daring to look into the bag in case it was some sort of prank. I was too exhausted to deal with these two.

I noticed Mori's gaze on me. He turned his head slightly to the surrounding track.

"Warm-down."

* * *

While I ran two slow laps to warm down and then proceeded to do some stretches, the twins talked to Honey and Mori for a bit and departed. I hit the showers and changed out of my sweaty gym clothes. Since it was getting dark, Honey and Mori walked me across campus to where Percy was waiting to chauffer me home. The whole walk, Honey somehow managed to keep up a one-sided debate on the topic of cake- namely what the best flavor of it was.

As he was comparing vanilla to chocolate, I interrupted him, "What do you think about oranges?"

Honey looked at me and grinned, "Oranges are yummy!"

"I think so too." I nodding to myself. They were in season right now in California. Maybe I could ask Percy to have some shipped here. Then, if I somehow survived tomorrow, I could make an orange cake for Honey and Mori as a thank you. They had spent their afternoons training me the past week, and they're third-years, so they must be busy. I thought about it some more, mentally reviewing all the trendy food recipes I'd seen online on the media. With dark chocolate? Mori seems like the dark chocolate type. But Honey likes sweeter things, so maybe milk chocolate?

"Here we are!" Honey announced with a broad smile, breaking me out of my thoughts. He gestured to my family's sports car.

I guess semi-sweet chocolate would have to be the compromise for the two.

I bowed my head slightly and said my farewells to the duo.

"Spoopy-Sleep well! Eat well!" Honey ordered as I shut the door.

But the passenger window was down, "Who do you take me for?" I retorted with a smile, "Sleep. Eat. All day. Everyday." Read too, but that was extraneous information.

Honey's smile only seemed to grow wider. I think I saw the corner of Mori's mouth curve upwards.

* * *

I dropped to sleep immediately after a dinner that might've cleaned the kitchen out. Considering my impending doom, I should've had nightmares, but after all my physical exercise this past week, sleep welcomed me into its dark embrace. In the morning, I woke up in a drowse, chugged a dozen stacks of pancakes for breakfast, went to school, and promptly fell back asleep on my desk before class had even begun.

Haruhi informed me during lunch that the teacher tried to wake me up during attendance. The teacher failed and proceeded to forget about or ignore my existence for the rest of the day. Haruhi also said the twins apparently found my deep napping hilarious and attempted to Sharpie my face and glue me to the desk. Haruhi stopped them.

If I were remotely the touchy-feely type, I would've hugged that boy.

' _She'_

Or girl. Whatever. Not my business to question my savior's life choices.

Also I drool. I've never done that before. Thank you exhaustion, cleaning my desk would've been embarrassing if anyone other than Haruhi could actually notice me doing it.

My brain didn't register the seriousness of the upcoming battle until the end of lunch time when I finally opened the twins gift after much procrastination.

Guess what was in the bag?

A banana.

Pardon my language but…

A. _Fucking_. Banana.

The species of fruit that the brothers used to start this whole mess. A taunt.

They knew I knew, and I hated them for it.

I wouldn't categorize myself as a prideful person, but I had to win this. Using whatever means possible.

After the academic day ended, I walked towards Music Room #3 at the start of club times, wearing the same delinquent outfit from the previous Tuesday's event; my heart beat quickened in anxiety.

Would I come out of here alive? I could see the press writing the article now: 'Famous Star's Daughter Took Acting Too Far: The Fake Delinquent Massacred by the Real.' I bit my lip nervously for a moment then furiously shook my head. No, no, no, no. Delinquent. Tough guy. That's me…at least for today. I clutched the banana in my hand tightly and slipped it into my blazer inside pocket.

I _will_ win.

* * *

"On the verdict that you're probably—well, _surely_ going to lose, and the likely chance that you will sustain heavy injuries, I have called the Ootori Emergency Care Unit. They are in the neighboring on standby" Kyoya held my shoulder, looking me into the eye. Well, I think he was. His glasses have a way of sinisterly glinting even in the most unlikely lighting, "Also, I've ensured that your real name will not get slipped today to avoid any…complications. I'm convinced most of the our usual guests did not know it anyway. On another note, Shiro will not be here today due to a field trip, sadly. But he sends his regards."

I think this is the kindest things he's ever done for me.

I half-patted half-pushed off his hand that held my shoulder, "I got this." I said with false bravado and a forced smile. For the sake of continuity, I had decided to pull of the fight with a delinquent attitude. Now, I wasn't quite in character yet but faking bravado was the first step. Looking brave in front of my fellow hosts was a warmup one could say.

Or this was just my way of not peeing my pants in fear. My opponent stood at the other end of the room and God, I've said this before, but she is TALL. And muscular. And sc—

"You alright?" Haruhi approached, concern in his big round eyes. Wow, his face seemed very girly today. Or is it just me?

Stop thinking Addie. Better things to worry about. Like delinquents.

"Of course!" I said with a faux smile.

"Bullshit." He replied with an equally fake smile.

I dropped my own smile and sweat-dropped, "…You're so damn perceptive."

He shrugged, "I've been told."

I took a deep breath, trying to regain myself. Haruhi not only notices me when I'm invisible but also sees through my lies. Dangerous.

"It's okay to be nervous, Addie," Haruhi said kindly, "It's good actually, I think." He was searching for a way to calm me down but was obviously struggling, "Just stay on your feet and uh…Sorry, I'm not much a fighter. Just," His voiced faded to a murmur, "Don't get pummeled too badly?"

I laughed a little, "That's great advice."

Haruhi pouted awkwardly. He…she….pouted.

"Kyoya has medical personnel in the next room."

Haruhi brightened, "Oh! Good," He smiled genuinely this time. It was almost…cute?

"Spoopy!" Honey jumped at me out of nowhere, clutching his bunny doll.

"What's up, coach?" I held Honey and his bunny in my arms until Mori pulled the small 3rd year off me, "Any advice…?"

"Nope! Break a leg!" Honey said with a thumbs up.

"Honey." Mori said seriously.

"Oh wait…don't break a leg! I'll treat you to cake if you don't!" Honey paused, "But if you do…"

I smiled, "Even if it's my funeral, we'll get some cake," I said and patted Honey on his head. He gleamed.

"Don't die." Mori's eyes narrowed.

I froze at his sudden seriousness, "Okay." I murmured quietly.

Honey started talking about how I was a ghost, and ghosts couldn't die, but Mori's stare made me think of that cliché phrase used in action romance movies where the heroine would tell the hero, 'If you die, I'll kill you' before some decisive battle. What an oxymoron…actually, it's a paradox. Or is it both? What if the girlfriend killed the boyfriend originally? Like in a psycho-horror movie? With that phrase, would that mean she would kill him again? But, depending on the circumstance, to kill him again, she'd either just keep mangling his body or have to hunt him down into the underworld. The easiest way to follow the boy into the underworld would be for the girl to kill herself, but then—

"Spoopy! There you are!" Tamaki called out, snapping me away from my thoughts. Honey and Mori had disappeared. How long had I been standing here, thinking? My head felt like it was spinning.

"How are you feeling?" Tamaki said, standing in front of me, "Ready to win?" He pumped his fist in excitement.

Did he think I was actually going to win..?

I looked up to meet his optimistic blue eyes. He was grinning like a madman.

He…did.

Haruhi mentioned that Tamaki's energy was 'contagious.' I guess I finally understand what he meant. Time to pull the act back together with the false bravado. Delinquent. Battles are fun. Whee. Bloodshed. Punching. Kicking. Breaking legs.

"Hell yeah!" I grinned.

He grinned back, "Of course you should! Honey trained you after all," This man was almost sparkling with enthusiasm, "And, he doesn't' do that for everyone," He wagged his finger, "It's been awhile since I've seen Honey help someone out like that. He likes you!" He froze, "but not like that."

"I know." I almost broke character to deadpan at Tamaki.

He unfroze, "Good! I'm happy you're fitting in! I think this experience is all for the better." Tamaki said, nodding to himself.

What a weird-funny guy.

I gave a sheepish smile and told Tamaki that I had to get going-the fight was supposed to start soon. He departed with a wave, and I moved towards the crowd made ring. There was a mat on the floor, probably to prevent guts from spilling on the floor. My guts.

The twins were also there, watching. They hadn't bothered to talk to me before the match for whatever reason, not that I was complaining. Maybe they were just content enough with giving me that banana.

"Oy' Spoopy!" One of them called out.

Maybe they weren't after all.

"Good luck faking your way through this one!"

I held back a frown.

Okay, this time I was about to actually flip them off. I was a (fake) delinquent now, so I had the right to be a bit more offensive. But then,

 _Crack! Pop!_

The bancho across the mat cracked her knuckles.

"This match is Ouran's Banchou and the Host club's girl delinquent. The first to unable to continue fighting or is flung off the mat will win," A familiar voice called out.

Of course, the referee was Renge of all people. Of course.

But wait. Wait, I'm not ready.

The crowd cheered. There were way too many people here. Feeling lightheaded, I move into a wobbly battle position.

No, no, no.

"Start!"

Oh no.

"Spoopy, dodge!"

* * *

[A few days before]

"Honey, it's okay, I'm going to die. You don't need to do this. I can't learn enough martial arts to beat an experienced delinquent in just a couple days." This wasn't a Shounen manga or action comic.

Mori, Honey, and I stood in the middle of the school's track and field. It was the first day of 'training' for the competition. Hopefully the last.

The small blonde pouted, "Don't be such a spoil-sport-you can't just give up like that! Besides," his eyes shone, "Takashi and I have a plan!"

Mori nodded.

"Plan?"

Honey nodded vigorously, "Yep! We're going to focus on dodging!"

I scrunched my face, "Explain?"

Honey held up a hand, "We will, but start doing pushups!"

"How many?"

Honey made what I thought to be his 'tough' face. It was adorable.

"Drop down and gimme…" Honey said the phrase with passion then paused in uncertainty, "Uh…just keep going till you drop!"

"Just what I like to hear, coach." I said sarcastically under my breath while mentally cursing my life as I 'dropped down.'

When was the last time I did pushups?

* * *

 _'Well, by the looks of things, you can't win a fist to fist fight with that girl, even if we train like crazy. So, dodge until she gets tired and you can take a good swing!'_ Honey's voice echoed in my head. I also remembered how sore my arms were. Damn pushups.

 _Right jab._

I moved my head quickly to the side, just avoiding my opponent's fist.

Days of dodging, running, muscle conditioning, and fighting lead to this. From Honey's insane instruction, I could understand to some extent my opponent's body language. It didn't help that my body was still sore from the whole experience, and it kinda-really-yes-oh-lordie hurt to move, but I'm trying _not_ to think about that. Mind over matter, so they say.

 _Left hook._

As I sidestepped to avoid another punch, my calf cramped, and I almost fell. Ugh, I better win this somehow. I think the bancho just laughed under her breath. Sadist delinquent.

"Woah! The delinquent girl dodges another punch from Ouran's bancho!" Rengo called through her mic.

I moved back and feigned my own jab. While the goal was to dodge until the bancho tired and showed an opening for a good punch, I couldn't act like that was my goal or she would catch on. So, a few crappy punches and kicks would have to do.

"You can't aim." The bancho said as it was almost fact.

"Says you," I replied sarcastically. She hadn't landed a punch yet either.

"Coward. You will tire, and I will win. That's all."

Great, we're playing the same game. She's seen through me, and I'm screwed.

"Friendly reminder to all the spectators that the Hitachiin brothers are handling all bets! A small interest of all the money will be contributed to the host club. This _is_ a school event after all!"

If I weren't dodging for my life right now, I would have thrown the banana in my pocket at Renge's face. Or the twins. I could do it. Thanks to Honey's Spartan training, I had arm muscles and coordination now. Probably.

Wait.

A sudden thought struck me.

Banana.

The twins.

 _Roundhouse kick._

I ducked; my lips curved upwards into a smirk.

I have an idea.

"What is that smile?" The bancho backed away, fists up, her eyes full of suspicion. While I was standing here panting, she hadn't even broken a sweat. Yep, this was my only chance.

"Timeout!" I raise my hand and looked at Renge.

She paused, probably wondering if timeouts were allowed. There weren't really any rules or regulations in this fight. I narrowed my eyes into a death glare.

She blew the whistle, "Time-out! Each competitor gets…uh…two minutes to regroup!"

The bancho broke her stare at me and grumbled something under her breath (Russian?) while backing out of the ring. I left the ring as well and immediately took out and peeled the banana I had in my coat.

Yes, I was fighting in my coat; I like to think of it as armor. Spare me judgment, please. Besides, it's snack time.

"Spoopy! You okay?" Honey had appeared beside me with a nervous look. But the look turned inquisitive, "Spoopy…why are you eating a banana? Do you have a muscle cramp?"

Mori was there too, "Water." He held out my water bottle.

I stuffed the remaining banana into my mouth and took the water with a thankful nod. I proceeded to chug water until I had entirely cleared the banana.

"Buah! Thanks," I smiled at the duo while slipping the peel into my pocket, "That's all I really wanted to do."

Honey's brow furrowed, "Why're you so happy you're losing?" He said bluntly. His eyes widened, "You have a plan?"

"Yep." I grinned.

"Really!?"

Mori's expression didn't change, but he seemed pleased.

I touched my finger to my mouth, "It's a secret."

* * *

"Time's up!" Renge interrupted via speakers, "Will the competitors please return to the mat?"

"That's my call." I waved goodbye to the duo and moved back to the ring.

"Ahem! And with that," Renge announced, "May the match continue!" She paused, "And no more timeouts!"

Okay, Addie, deep breaths. I tensed my body, bent my legs—ready to move.

Should I taunt her? No, she would see through that.

Time to be aggressive.

I pushed off the ground and charged towards my opponent, pulling my arm back to prepare for a punch.

Or at least seem like it.

The bancho smirked, "Ah, I see you are finally getting serious." She readied to counter my punch, "Straightforward. I like it."

The distance between us closed. I was within punching distance. I tightened my core and threw my entire weight into a punch.

"Addie goes for the punch—"

And I missed.

"And she falls!"

I had lost my balance—my weight was too forward-and shifted myself to hit the ground instead of the bancho. My punching arm was out to cushion my fall. Upon hitting the ground, I tumbled right to the edge of the mat. A few inches more, and I would've been out.

I made a worried face and looked to my opponent.

"You coward." She said, clearly offended by my apparent weakness.

I tried to get up but fell back down and clutched my calf with one hand and my side with the other.

"Your leg cramped did it not? I saw earlier. You also hurt your side?" She gave out a terse laugh, "You are weak as you are scared." She said, her seemingly bottomless dark eyes glaring down at me, "I will end you," She pushed off the ground and sprinted towards me.

All part of my master plan.

It all happened in a blur of a second.

The moment of truth.

Right next to my side was my jacket pocket. In my jacket pocket was a banana peel.

A quick slip of hand, and the peel was splat out on the ground.

The bancho saw it coming, but she couldn't stop her momentum. Her foot slammed onto the organic yellow matter. With a disgruntled yell, she fell towards me.

I held back a smile. It was my win.

Using her own forward momentum, I moved into a crouch position, grabbed her by the scruff, and rolled her over me and into an over-the-shoulder toss that Honey had taught me yesterday.

It was roughly done, but it did the job.

The bancho landed out of bounds. The crowd screamed.

I had won.

* * *

- **A/N: I don't know how I feel about using honorifics, so please bear with my indecisiveness as I probably will switch back and forth. Yay continuity!**

 **I also wanted to finish this episode with this chapter, but it's already pretty long, so I decided to cut it off here.**

 **Thank you all for your reviews and support!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Salty Day

xXXx

I had won.

The battle was long over.

I could go back to my days of chaotically managing the host club and escape the threat of death.

…But why did I feel like I've dug myself a bigger grave?

"Where is she?"

"Our bancho…"

"Where is—"

"Addie, it's been two weeks since the duel." Haruhi looked to me, exasperated. This whole shebang had started to crowd the host room "You _said_ they would get over after a day or two. _Why_ is this still happening?"

Oh right. My new servants have arrived… for almost the tenth day in the row.

I gave Haruhi a playful shrug and said, "I guess I'm just lovable?"

Haruhi just glared.

I sweat-dropped and glanced around the music room, my expression turning back to neutral "…They're less of them then there was Friday? Kyoya says we charge them for coming in here all the time." His/her (I need to figure this out already, goshdarnit) eyes narrowed. Anyway-time to change the subject,

I plastered on a pleasant smile, "You look tan? How'd that pool trip with the guys go?" I didn't have to go because Renge volunteered for me. Thank lordie—my weekends are precious time. I mean…for reading, and eating, and maybe more eating. Okay, maybe a snide comment or two to Percy. But he deserves it. Maybe. Probably not.

Okay I'm digressing. Less self-speculation on my teenage morality, more let's-not-end-up in Haruhi's Death Note.

"The pool was indoors." Haruhi replied tersely.

"Oh."

Haruhi kept glaring.

 _Change the subject, change the subject, change the sub-_

"Do you want to hear how I became the school bancho?"

Haruhi raised an eyebrow. I'll take that as a 'yes.'

Let's digress some more.

 _FlaaaaashbaaaAAAaaack._

XxxX

Among delinquent clichés lies the legend of the honor code. Before my fight with Ouran's bancho, I didn't know whether this cliché existed in this society or not. But, in making my fake delinquent character, I held true to several of these stereotypical traditions.

One of which is good fighting sportsmanship. Well, when the fight's supposed to be fair of course. None withstanding my trick with the banana (they _didn't_ say that weapons _weren't_ allowed!), I thought my one-on-one match with Ouran's bancho was a fair fight.

So, when I toppled my opponent over the boundary line and Renge started screaming that I had ("somehow…miraculously…shockingly" this flattering list of adverbs goes on) won the fight, I met my opponents dark eyes, which were filled with what I hoped to be a healthy respect but probably was actually killing intent, and held out my hand, I was only thinking to help her onto her feet, of course. That would be part of a delinquent's honor code, right?

Even though I think I could hear her growling at me, she still took my hand. And while I helped her up while the crowd cheered, I made sure to glance towards the other hosts to see their reaction.

Kyoya smirked, surely because I had secured him a profit with the huge crowd. Haruhi looked confused as ever. Tamaki and Honey were bouncing all over the place, crying tears of joy and pride at my deceitful acts, and Mori, in all his God-given stoicism, was holding a tissue box that the two blond hosts happily took advantage of.

Finally, the twins. I had used their joke against them. I could barely see them through the crowd, but man, they were looking right at me with wide amber eyes and..and…

Can I use 'wordless' in the same way as priceless? Or is that stupid? Well, I'm stupid happy so fuck it.

Their expressions were wordless.

I basked in the glory for a half-second, sincerely happy for the fact I had an impeccable memory and would never forget the details of that moment.

Okay, that's done. Memory stored in the depths of mind forever.…Can I leave? Now that I don't to worry about my ribs being broken by a female Mori, I'd like to mentally remind everyone (yes, they can't hear me, but I like to validate myself) that I hate-hate-hate large crowds.

A familiar yet sickening anxiety settled in my stomach.

Too many eyes on me. Too loud. And they were all talking about _me._

I dropped my opponent's hand and started to turn onto my heel to make a beeline for the exit—

"Tell me your name." My opponent grabbed my arm.

Holding back a frown and keeping my expression neutral, I looked back at my opponent. I had to keep up my act a little bit longer.

"Loser's first." I said, trying not to think about how much I had to crane my neck to make eye contact with this giant.

Her eyebrow twitched, and I could tell she wasn't used to being ordered around, but she complied nonetheless. Victor takes all, as they say.

"Talia." She answered simply.

I raised an eyebrow.

" _Just_ Talia."

Okay then.

Her eyebrow twitched again, "Your name." It wasn't a question.

And I immediately knew I _shouldn't_ tell her my real name.

So I gave her the next best thing:

"Spoopy." I echoed her serious tone.

I didn't even wait for her eyebrow to rise like mine did.

" _Just_ Spoopy."

It's unlikely, but I hope I sounded cool.

Talia just gave me a measured glance, "Very well… _Spoopy,"_ Her eyebrow twitched again. Nervous habit? Because gosh it made me nervous like she was about to beat me to a pul—

"I see," She continued, her tone still level, "I, Ouran's bancho, lost. So now I pass our school's bancho title to you. My followers are now yours. You are free to…flirt with them as you like in this…host club."

Oh, so this was also part of their honor code.

"That's alri—" I started.

"I _insist."_ Talia growled, her grip tightening.

Great. More weirdos to deal with. If I faked this whole delinquent thing any longer, I might end up becoming one.

I sighed, "Fine. I have to leave though. Now. I have business. Recite to me your phone number. I'll remember it."

She smiled, "I understand. Someone cunning-"

Is that what she thought of my banana trick? Flattered.

"-and strong like you much have much to do."

More like I just want to go home, eat an oversized meal, freak out my personal chefs (even after all this time, it never gets old!), and continue my merry life, but she didn't need to know.

I nodded and said, "Thank you for understanding. I will take your cell number and contact you within the next few days."

XxxxX

Haruhi blinked, _finally_ breaking his/her glare and said, "She's right. You _are_ cunning."

I shrugged, "I'll take that as a compliment?" Though Haruhi's tone implied it wasn't, "Anyway, so now we text. She's my number two, and she handles _everything_ delinquent related at this school since I'm obviously _swamped_ with work. She doesn't know my real identity, and I intend to keep it that way, " I said with a wave, "Especially since now I'm apparently a legend? Who knew?"

"I'll acknowledge that _._ " Haruhi said with a sigh, looking around the room. "They've been snooping around here everyday, and now there's a bunch of weird rumors about. I'm surprised Kyoya hasn't done anything about it."

"He says he counts them as guests and charges them extra since they're loitering. And they can't interfere with the host business, or he'll kick them all out with his police force."

"Of course he did that. He does everything for his own gain." Haruhi said, almost with a groan.

I smiled, for real this time. Ever since the brawl, I had felt a little better about being apart of the host club. Like I had gained a bearing in this crazy group of people. Not quite a niche. Nor fully ingrained in the group. But a grasp of who these people were and what they believed in. And a bit of an…appreciation for the hosts here?

Also I had gained a fighting force that seemingly ran the shadows of this school, but y'know. Details.

"Oy' Spoopy," One of the twins spoke behind me.

I turned in my chair to see the twins approaching.

Scratch that. An appreciation for _most_ of hosts. Screw these two.

"We finally found you!" The other echoed.

The identical twins approach, mirroring the same smile and step.

Ugh.

I was really getting sick of not being able to tell these two apart. The fact that they were significantly taller than me and identical, could act perfectly in sync, and were probably the god of mischief's illegitimate children from another universe _freaked_ the Hell out of me. And don't get me started on the which-one-is-Hikaru bullshit they pull all the time to get what they wanted.

I had to do their homework and take notes for all last week week because of it. An entire _week._ Just because I can't tell the difference between two individuals with identical DNA. I have an almost perfect memory, so sue me if I can't remember or identify a difference in their identical faces and uniforms other than their hair-which-they-change-and-hide—

"Can you tell your minions to leave?" The tone was aggressive. Maybe that was Hikaru talking.

I was angry at them. For the banana, for losing their stupid game.

I wanted revenge. For them treating me like I'm some toy to fool around with.

I wanted to be able to tell them apart and rip their identical smug expressions off their face.

Have you ever heard the phrase: spite is the greatest motivation?

And I'm full of it.

Google dictates that most identical twins can be differentiated through the tone of their voice or the way they speak. If I can identify them by their voices, maybe I can understand their mannerisms more. And, if I can identify the microcosms of the way they act (Haruhi says there is a difference. Of course Haruhi of all people sees a difference. Too damn perceptive.), the next time I play their game, I can win and crush-

"They're annoying." The other-maybe-Kaoru echoed, "They're ruining business for me and Kaoru."

Okay _that's_ actually Hikaru. Damnit!

I kept a neutral expression, though my mood was boiling on the inside, "Why should I tell them to leave? If they're really annoying, go talk to Kyoya." I could barely keep the venom out of my voice.

Hikaru scrunched his nose and leaned forward, "They're _your_ subordinates."

"I'm not revealing my presence to shoo away some guys killing time."

"Huh?" Hikaru said with growing irritation, "And you're our manag—"

"How do you do that anyway?" Kaoru said, stepping closer to me, "Disappear, I mean,"

Hikaru passed a glance at Kaoru and then looked at me with an unnerving glint in his eyes.

Their lips quirked upwards in unison. Some girls might find it sexy; ever since seeing a special screening of _The Shining_ on a too-large screen in a too-large, dark inescapable room at a much too young age, I would beg to differ.

"Yes, how do you do that?" Hikaru continued.

And then they started talking in sync. If I ever see them apparate into a hotel hallway I swear to-

"If you tell us," the Hitachiin brothers said, "we'll stop bugging you about your subordinates."

"Okay, I'll tell you," I said immediately.

The twins' eyebrows raised with interest. Were they genuinely curious right now? Might as well meet their expectation.

"I call it the art of go-fuc-"

" _Okay that's enough."_ Haruhi stood up, her voice firm like a scolding mother's "Addie, restrain yourselves. Hikaru, Kaoru, don't bother Addie all the time like this—you're just provoking her."

The twins looked at each other once again and shrugged. I held back a smirk. The twins, thought constantly, I suspected had a soft spot for Haruhi. Call it intuition gained from having a mother who's notorious for having every guy on all the set flirt with her. Of course, she only really entertained the wealthy and handsome. Suave moves, bad pickup lines, nervous jokes, the brave few who pull the 'oops-i've-spilled-my-drink-on-your-brand-name-shirt-let's-get-drinks'—let me tell you, when you're wearing a shirt or dress that was tailored and designed by some fancy-pants (literally) New York designer that any model would die to wear…

Well, wrong line, wrong clothing. Sorry bro, you're not hitting anyone up after that. In fact, my mother's probably hitting you. Literally.

Gosh, we virtually never got along, and I hate her man-inizing ways, but I loved watching her slap men silly when they did stupid things.

And yes, they would talk to our lawyer. They also need up being the ones paying the hourly fees for them.

I'm getting off topic.

"Fine—" Kaoru started.

"—Only because we don't want to make you mad, Haruhi." Hikaru finished.

"But!" They said in unison and looked back at me, who was glaring silver daggers at them at that point, "This isn't over. You better watch yourself this weekend." The twins smirked, turned on their heels, and walked away.

"This weekend?" I echoed and looked at Haruhi.

"We're all going to the beach this weekend. Tamaki says you're coming too."

"I'm coming?" To the beach? "…Since when?"

"Since Renge decided to go back to France, and we have extra tickets. Not to mention, I have a few jobs for you." A new voice said.

Can Kyoya apparate? Is he a wizard? He probably has a degree in the dark arts.

"I have plans this weekend!" I said, quickly turning towards the host club's number two.

"No. You don't. I've already contacted Percy about this." He replied simply with a smile.

Devil. Or even worse. _Voldemort._

I held back a flinch at the thought of one of the antagonist that sometime haunted my childish dreams back in elementary school.

Haruhi didn't (or pretended not to) my tensed mood and patted me on the back, simply saying:

"Remember to pack sunscreen. It's going to be hot."

XxX

Extra: Sunny Day

When Addie first went to the beach, she didn't pack sunscreen. In fact, she didn't pack anything at all but herself and a swimsuit.

Sun shined over the California beach, sea gulls cawed, and the taste of salt permeated the warm, breezy air; the perfect day for a movie shoot. Camera crews ran in all directions to catch just the right angles of the actors running hand-in-hand on the shore, while sweaty directors yelled orders at young staff and off-stage cast members gather props and fix the makeshift tent.

Aside from the shooting and away from the lenses of any camera, a very young child, no more than six or seven years of age, sat a ways from the movie madness on the shore. Back and forth. _Swish and swoosh_. She watched the waves steadily wash over her bare pale legs.

"I'm bored." She announced to nobody, pulling the strap of her bright red one-piece and glancing over to the shoot. The girl let out a soft whimper. She wanted her mother, the star actress of the current romantic drama in-progress. There still shooting the same scene. It had already been two hours!

"I wanna see mommy," The girl pouted and wrapped her small arms around her legs.

"Cut, cut, cut! Come on guys!" She could hear the director yelling. His voice was as cranky and ugly as the girl's mood when her mommy forgot to make or hire someone to get breakfast. Mommy didn't allow work people to live with them because of 'security reasons.' "We ain't got all day." The man continued to yell, "I want touchy-feely- this is the beach, feel the skinship! The hotness! More love. Ugh… Break everyone! You guys better be ready next time. I'm looking at you lover boy!" The director yells, brushing off the sweat on his forehead, waving the script around. "Augh! Can someone get me a towel already? Come on people! Move it!"

Hearing the word 'break,' the young girl lifts her head towards the camp, her grey eyes sparkling with happiness.

Could she go talk to Mommy? Would…Mommy play with her? She jumped to her feet and started run-galloping towards the tent. Thoughts of sand castles and mermaid games danced in her imagination. Her mommy _was_ named Ariel after all. _And_ she had red hair like the rest of her family. The girl was the only brunette in her mother's family. Ever. Well, that's what the pictures in her mommy's safe indicated to the girl anyway (The woman had accidentally let the safe code slip while the girl was in earshot). Arriving at the center of the shoot, the girl looked around and quickly spotted her mother, immediately running over to hug the scarlet-haired actress.

"Hi Mommy!" the girl exclaims, hugging the actress's knees tightly, looking up at her mommy with her best big grey puppy-dog eyes "Do you wanna build a sand castle? Go swimming? Can I pretend to be a vegan shark and go _raaawr_ while you're the little mermaid and-"

"Oh…hello sweetheart…I didn't see you there!" The young mother interrupted, as if she had just noticed the small child. She awkwardly patted her daughter's dark brown hair. "Mommy's still busy with her shoot, so you have to keep it up little more, okay?"

"Eh…?" The child frowned, tilting her head. "But you're on break right?"

"Addie-"

"Oh hey Ariel, want to go to the bar after this is all over- What's with the kid?" A handsome young man says, walking towards the mother and daughter. "Heh, must've gotten lost." The actor bends down until he's at the same level as little Addie, his lips curling into a friendly smile, "Where are your parents kiddo?" '

Addie moved farther behind her mother's legs, looking at the drama's male lead shyly.

"Addie, this is Marcus," Ariel took a deep breath, sighed, and looked at Marcus, "Actually, Marcus, I haven't told this yet- I was going to, but uh…"

The man reached out to pat Addie's head. She ducked, not liking the touch of anyone other than Mommy and the receptionist at her apartment who gave her free lollipops and mint chocolate.

Best way to get to this girl's heart was unavoidable maternal connection and food.

"Eh, is this kid related to you or something Ari? Hey! You guys have the same grey eyes- that's adorable. She looks a lot like you!"

"Well-"

"Ah! Let me guess? She's your niece! Coming to visit Aunty huh?"

"Marcus!" Ariel exclaims, looking away from Marcus, "She's my _daughter._ "

"…Oh…I'm sorry…I didn't-" Marcus starts, taken aback by the sudden information, "You have…?"

"It's…okay…I'm used to it. And I guess your new to the showbiz scene around here. Just don't make a big deal about to the press. It's calmed down for the past year or two, so people tend to forget. Stuff happens y'know?" the star actress murmurs, looking at her young daughter guiltily.

Addie blinked her big grey eyes, a dozen thoughts twirling in her mindscape.

Mommy was weird. Sometimes she liked being a Mommy, but other times, it didn't seem like being Mommy was very fun.

To begin with, Mommy was 'young' for being a Mommy apparently, but Addie didn't really understand that stuff. She just knew _her_ Mommy was prettier than all the other mommy's in the world. Maybe the other Mommy's didn't like that and were mean. Maybe there was more to it. Apparently some people found this stuff 'interesting' or 'juicy' (what a weird word. Juice is squeezed fruit, _not_ something to call her family. We're humans _not_ fruit. English was weird.) Mommy didn't like reading some of those articles. So, Mommy didn't like being known as a mommy to everyone else.

Well, actually, while she complained a lot, she did like reading magazines sometimes. Well, all the time, really…?

Is this what the big books call, hipro-cri-si? Or is it contra-dixon?

Well, Mommy definitely liked being a Mommy when LOTS of people had cameras and microphones ("It's good every once and a while to get out and get some good publicity. You _are_ an renowned actress's daughter after all!" Mommy would say, stuffing Addie into itchy dresses and powdering weird things on her face). Yet Addie hated the flashing lights, especially when Mommy pushed her into them. The dark, bulky machines went ' _click click click!'_ while Addie's eyes blinked with a resounding ' _ow ow ow!'_ going through her head as the flash attacked. And everyone kept yelling and yelling and pulling and screaming at her.

Couldn't they be quiet? Couldn't they keep their hands to themselves? Wasn't silence golden?

Then, those photos would show up in the same magazines Mommy didn't like!

It didn't make _any_ sense!

The girl shook her head. She was spacing out. Mommy always told her she was an airhead because there was too much information living in her head. The statement didn't make sense to the girl. How could her head be empty if there was information crammed in it? Wasn't that called an oxy…oxymoron? Contradixon?

No, wait! There couldn't be an 'x' in that word, the spelling didn't make se-

She shook her head a second time. She was spacing out _again_! She had to remember why she was standing there in the middle of the set: to talk and (hopefully) play with Mommy.

"Mommy, why did that man call you Ari? Can I call you Ari?" Adele asks innocently, pressing her face playfully against her mother's bare leg. "Your legs really warm by the way. Though you do need to shave."

Ariel bends down and wraps her arm around Adele, her pretty silver eyes studying the girl, "Honey, this is my boyfriend, Marcus. He's another big actor in this movie we're making. I was planning to introduce him to you eventually, but life has just been so busy. You understand right?"

The girl nodded, never letting go of her mother's gaze. Her mom's life was always very 'busy' with boyfriends.

"What happened to the other ones-mmmph!"

"Oh Adele, what are you talking about? Jeez, you might give Marcus the wrong idea!" Ariel exclaims loudly as she muffles her daughter's mouth. _This kid does not have a filter does she?_ The mother thinks gloomily. And she eats so much! Well, she does have her moments I guess. She has a pretty good memory to remember those other men, the mother thinks, looking curiously at the young child. A director starts to scream in the distance, "I have to go sweetheart, go put on some for sunscreen okay? Or you'll get red as a lobster!" Ariel says quickly, patting Adele's head.

"….okay." Adele mutters sullenly and starts to walks away in search of sunscreen.

A hand slips in to another as Marcus leads Ariel away to the movie shoot.

The movie shoot ended five hours later without a single break. The romantic-drama that later aired in the coming months was an award-winning hit. Though, a month or two later after _that,_ Mommy 'broke up' with Marcus. And then two weeks after _that,_ a week after Addie's birthday, a repo—

Well, that's a story for another time.

But Addie really didn't remember that day for the masterpiece it birthed. That was the day Adele learned three simple truths:

1\. Put on sunscreen. Addie does not tan. She burns pathetically like a lobster

2\. Always have a long book or some sort of device to entertain oneself at long movie shoots.

3\. Her mother likes men. A lot.

XxX

I didn't bring my sunscreen.

It's not like I forgot it. No, I'm not a forgetful person. At all.

It's just hard to bring something you didn't _have._

Yes, I, a full-paying student of Ouran Academy, didn't have the luxury of sunscreen. And no, I wasn't in the mood to ask my good neighbors for any.

And yes, I _am_ sulking. I don't hold any particular love towards beaches and, despite my West coast upbringing, I didn't want to be here and working on the weekend. But now I was here and _unprotected._

"Addie, stop sulking, take off that ridiculous hoodie, and enjoy the beach." Haruhi, who was sitting next to me under an umbrella, ordered.

"No." I pushed my head further into the book I was reading. One hand held it close to my face. The other twirled my low side ponytail and flipped the occasional page. The book was a tragedy-just like my life right now.

"Well, you're crowding my towel, and there's other girls who want to sit down."

"They can bring their own towels." I said, grumbling.

"This is _my_ towel."

"And this is _my_ shade."

Haruhi cursed under his/her breath and grabbed my book, "A little sun won't kill you."

I looked at my now-empty hand and then at Haruhi. "Say that when I get skin cancer. If I go out there, I'll blend right in with all those ridiculous crabs Honey and you collected," I said sharply.

I don't tan well; I just burn, so why submit myself to UV rays at all?

Haruhi sighed. That sigh sounded so _girlish._ Yet here the host was, in swim trunks and a shirt.

"Haruuuuhi!" The twins shouted from the distance, approaching.

"Take this!" Hikaru (I could tell from the swim trunks) tossed a something across the distance towards us.

Haruhi dodged, still holding my book (thankfully), the object hit me in the face.

It was a water balloon. In a millisecond, my face dripped in salt water and the top of my hoodie was drenched.

I didn't have the energy to get up and pummel the culprits, so I just groaned and lied down. Maybe if I played dead they would leave my sorry existence be.

"Haruhi, are you afraid of water?"

"Is that why you're not swimming?"

"No. Hikaru, Kaoru. I'm not afraid of water. I went to the pool last week, remember?" Haruhi paused, I could hear another sigh come from the host, "Don't play dumb. You just used this fear game of yours as an excuse to cause more trouble, didn't you?"

"Ehhh. Well this was _sea water_ not pool water. It's _different._ " The two brothers said in unison, their reasoning on par with a five year old's.

"But..." I could see Kaoru start to smirk in my peripheral vision.

"…We _did_ hit Spoopy!" Hikaru finished.

The two turned their focus to me. I continued to play dead and closed my eyes.

"Wait," Kaoru said in inquisition, "Spoopy, what _are_ you wearing?"

"That hoodie," Hikaru continued, "How _old_ is that? Not even Haruhi would wear such a thing if given the choice!"

"Oy!" Haruhi quipped but then said in a softer, more concerned voice, "Though, you aren't wrong."

My hoodie was nicknamed 'Comfy.' Because it was Comfy. It's the type of attire you would wear when you want to relax and not look good for anyone. I've owned Comfy since I was eleven and won it at some game at some big showbiz convention my mom had a press conference at. I was grumpy because my mother had dragged me to an event with way too much paparazzi and people. She forced me to play the game to show familial love to the viewers. We were on a stage. It was terrifying. But, It was a memory game, and, to my mother's joy, I crushed it. To my mother's displeasure, I chose the ugliest and biggest prize: Comfy.

The press loved it, saying that I had a new and unique fashion 'taste.' Mom smiled, but she knew the crap I was pulling because there was no way she could stand next to me in public when I was wearing _that_ , and her pretty silver eyes screamed, 'why are you introverted.' Nevertheless, I hated every moment of it all. And in my spite, I wore that ugly sweatshirt every day for the next two months. The cloth quickly wore out and the ugly green faded a bit, and it quickly became the most comfortable thing in my wardrobe that I would wear in my leisure or if I wanted to spite my mother again.

On it was a chocolate chip-mint ice cone with large circle eyes that screamed: ICE SCREAM!

It wasn't very cutely drawn. It was actually kinda creepy. The eyes were kinda depthless. People never liked staring at it too long. Also, wasn't the chocolate chip mint supposed to be the 'chill' flavor? Or am I just applying needless stereotypes to ice cream? Maybe it was zombified ice cream.

Ah whatever.

I loved Comfy to death.

Literally. I'm being serious; the threads are coming out.

I probably have to get it fixed sometime if I want it to last until high school graduation.

"I'm in my time of mourning." I said after a pause, cracking open my eyes to see my three conversation partners staring down at me with wary eyes.

Normally, I wouldn't wear Comfy in public. But I was spiteful and grumpy, and I think wearing this ragged thing conveyed that to my companions. Also it protected me from the sun. Two birds. One stone.

I love passive aggression.

"Still…"

"That sweatshirt."

"Looks like _trash._ "

"Is that what you all say to your grandma after grandpa dies? No wonder she never sends you two any gifts."

"Don't make stuff up." Haruhi said, sternly. Then, with a resigned shrug, he/she said, "I'm going to go collect more crabs for tonight. Do me a favor: _don't_ tear each other's throats out when I'm gone."

"No promises." Hikaru, Kaoru, and I said in sync.

Haruhi gave us a strange look, and we also grimaced in sync. Is this what being a triplet is like?

Don't answer that.

As Haruhi walked away, the twins sat down next to me.

"Why are you sitting next to me?" I ask, sitting up slowly and patting my damp sweatshirt. Nope, not taking it off. Just because I'm a little damp doesn't mean the UV rays aren't still beating down on this beach. I refuse to take _any_ chances.

"We have some questions for you," Kaoru said.

"I don't have any answers." I replied sternly, giving them a sharp look.

"Aren't you curious about where Haruhi's been disappearing all day?"

"Already know. That stupid fear competition you two and Tamaki made up, right?"

The brothers' expressions dropped little bit, "Damn. She's more perceptive than we thought."

"Damn." I echoed, "They're more block-headed than I hoped."

"Oy!" Hikaru growled.

Kaoru sighed, "Okay, this isn't getting anywhere."

The twins looked at each other, a conversation transferring through their gazes in milliseconds. That's what it felt like at least.

"How about this?" They said in sync, "You help us get Haruhi's fear, we _don't_ put live crabs in your bedsheets tonight?"

 _"My what?"_

They grinned, "You get the idea."

XxX

A spooky cavern adventure, a dark truck's trap, and a mori (sharp-object. Ha. Puns.) later, the sun was setting, and Haruhi remained unafraid of anything.

"Ugh, what else can we try?" Hikaru groaned.

The three of us sat on some rocks near the beachside. A larger rock kept us in the shade.

"We did _everything._ " Kaoru said, echoing his brother's fatigue.

"Not everything." I piped.

"I acknowledge the idea's entertaining, but we are _not_ recreating _The Shining_." Kaoru replied, looking at me dully.

"We could've. One day shipping for wigs and dresses. You two already have the creepy-identical-twin thing going—" And if the brothers said, 'Come play with me. Forever.' all the girls would swoon and Kyoya would be so pro—

"Oy Spoopy," Hikaru interrupted, looking at me with his curious amber eyes. "What are you afraid of?"

"What are _you_ afraid of?" I repeated the question to Hikaru, a little annoyed that he interrupted my _wonderful_ idea. Yes, my debate skills and petty nature resembled a seven-year old's. Plus or minus a half-brother, I'm practically an only child. Fighting maturely with other children is not my strength.

Besides, the twins were practically the same way since they acted like basically the same person. Have they ever even fought before?

"The Shining?" Kaoru suggested, also looking at me with a slight curiosity.

"Scary, yes. Terrifying, no. If I were truly afraid of that movie, would I suggest cosplaying it?"

Kaoru gave me an unidentified look, looked at Hikaru, and the two shrugged.

"Whatever. Hikaru, let's go see what's Tamaki's doing."

And with that, the twins grew bored of me and ditched me for Tamaki.

That's fine. I didn't want to hang out with them anyway.

I leaned forward, propping an elbow on my knee and placing my chin on the same arm's elbow knuckle. Grey eyes drifted towards the sea, where the warm-colored sun sank into the cool ocean water.

 _'What are_ you _afraid of?'_

What an ugly question. How am I supposed to answer that? Oh yes, Hikaru, Kaoru, let me tell you how to get under my skin. Let me let you in on the knowledge of my psyche that my psychologist only dreams of finding out.

I sighed, feeling slightly melodramatic. There was no possible way the twins could understand, could they? What were _they_ afraid of, anyway?

I paused and pondered.

Yes, that might be it. Maybe—

"Somebody help!"

Huh?

"Somebody—please!"

"Haruhi! Watch out!"

Within seconds, I sprinted up the large rock behind me to find some delinquents (no, I'm _not_ trying to be ironic) harassing a few girls and Haruhi.

The girls didn't notice me and kept crying out for help. Haruhi stood there, displaying fierce look to the delinquents, who did the same except _much_ scarier. One of them held a beer bottle. They were drunk. Great. This couldn't get any worse.

One of men grabbed Haruhi by the scruff, lifting the host towards the edge of the rock's cliff. We were high up. A good twelve meters above ground. My stomach turned. It was getting worse.

I hate myself sometimes. Like, right now.

"Stop right there!" I called out, deciding to try to play the hero. I moved forward towards Haruhi. I couldn't let—

"Ah-ah-ah, little miss." The other delinquent grabbed me by the arm.

"Get your arms off me!" I said, barely holding back a flinch at his tight grip.

I struggled. He kept holding on; a drunken smile plastered on his face.

"Ohhh, this one's gotta cute face!" His demented grin deepened, "Let's see what's under that scroungy sweatshirt of yours." His other hand reached for Comfy.

" _Get. The. Hell. Off. ME!"_ I yelled, almost screaming. I twisted and pulled my arm towards the part of his grip where his fingers met his thumb and broke free. Thank you self-defense class and thank you Honey for strength training.

The drunk man wobbled, muttering slurred curses while I staggered backwards. Through the corner of my vision, I could see the hard rocky and sandy ground below me.

Oh no.

Vertigo hit me, and everything felt lighter. In the worst way possible.

I lost my balance. My foot hit the edge of the rock cliff. I started to fall backwards towards the same rocky shore that I had just glanced at. My hands grappled for air. I could see Haruhi being tossed into the ocean. But, unlike Haruhi, I wouldn't get the luxury of dropping into the ocean. My heart beat tripled. Everything seemed to slow down in that congratulations-you're-about-to-die-here's-some-time-for-your-final-thoughts-and-reflections kind of time lapse.

And in that slow moment, with my heart pounding in my ears, I could only think of one thing:

 _'What are you afraid of?'_

Goddamnit, why are the twins in my last thoughts? Why?

I'm so going to haunt them in the next life.

 _'What are you afraid of?'_ The thought persevered.

In the mere moments before my death, I decided to humor the question. There were several ways to go about it.

Mom thinks I'm afraid of people. After I dropped out of middle school, I covered my apartment's windows, so I couldn't see outside—she figured it was so I wouldn't feel like I was constantly subjected to the showbiz city bustling below.…That I couldn't take the sight of other people, or the idea of other people looking at me. That all the years of being forced into a spotlight had finally broken me. That the kid inside me had become something more senile.

It's what she told the psychologist, at least.

But, while I typically don't like people, and I hate being swarmed by paparazzi and manipulated by my mother's fans and self-centered peers or boyfriends, my mother, perceptive to some extent, was still wrong and those experiences _weren't_ really why I put those blinds up.

People bother me, and yes, they can scare me, but on a day-to-day basis they don't _terrify_ me. Maybe a few years a ago, yes, but I've grown beyond that. I can talk to others, manipulate them through my words or assets. I'm young but cunning. And while, yes, I'm forced to work for this stupid club, and it sometimes feels like a waste of time, hanging out with these people wasn't _scary._

Maybe what scares me is the feats people are capable of. The way they can hurt others. The words they say and write in the paper or online. The actions individuals choose to take that can have the worst consequences. Onto their loved ones, people they don't know…

Themselves.

Actions that could make someone choose to fall down this cliff.

Or maybe I'm being too edgy?

Get it? Edgy. Because I'm falling off the edge?

…Fuck.

"Addie!"

Hands grasped my own, and I was pulled forward back onto solid ground. I immediately collapsed onto my knees, breathing erratically. My body trembled slightly. The world spun round and round, and I could only try to focus my dizzy gaze onto the ground.

The hands let go, and I heard thumping and beating and yelling and-

"Oy!"

"You okay?"

I broke out of my daze. How much time had passed? I numbly and slowly looked up. I wasn't shaking anymore, but my breath still came a bit frantically…I wasn't hyperventilating, which was good…I guess. My head still felt light, and the world seemed a bit bouncy, but I wasn't going to faint.

I think.

"Are you okay!?" The voice repeated. Hands grasped my shoulders. I blinked. Slowly, the world came back into the focus.

"Just some…vertigo." I said in a daze to my saviors.

"…Are you afraid of heights?"

…

I looked at my rescuer(s?) and tried not to throw up.

Hikaru and Kaoru knelt before me, their matching amber eyes staring at me with the kind of piercing gaze that made you feel like they were reading into your soul. Maybe it's the side effect from the fact I almost just died via my worst fear, but I still felt a bit weirded out.

Maybe this was really _The Shining._

 _…_ Well that dumb thought just confirmed I'm still alive.

And that the twins just almost certainly found out my personal phobia. Great.

"…Wow, I never expected to have _two_ knights in shining armor?" I managed, trying to avoid confirming the twins' _very_ accurate observation.

"And we never expected you to be the damsel in distress." Hikaru said, not pushing the previous question. I guess I looked too green to interrogate.

"You're more an evil and wretched witch type, really." Kaoru added.

"Sounds like an _amazing_ love story in my book." I said drearily, coming more and more back into myself with every second.

The boys scoffed in sync.

"Can you get up?" Kyoya entered my field of vision. I couldn't see his eyes through his glasses, but the frown lines on his face suggested he was worried. Maybe he did have a conscious; it just took two members' near death experiences to give rise to it.

"Uh…" I tried to stand up, but my wobbly legs refused to support me propery, and I flopped back down to the ground, "Not really…" I looked around. The delinquents were gone but…

"Where's Haruhi?" I asked.

"She fell into the ocean."

"Tamaki's got her-."

She? …Her?

My head suddenly felt heavier. Another dizzy spell hit. My ears were ringing. Had they been ringing all this time?

"Hikaru, Kaoru, help her walk back to the lodge. She's suffering from a severe case of vertigo." Kyoya interjected, "give her medicine and water. Honey and Mori might be there to help."

"Okaaaay." The duo said in sync, each of them hooking one of my arms, and standing me up, "Hold on to our arms, walk, and don't fall."

"Don't worry, I would never fall for you." I said, playing with their words halfheartedly as I tightened my grip on their shoulders, trying my darnest _not_ to fall onto the brothers.

xXx

A/N: ^trololol nope not true. Hehe. Thank you all so much for the positive reviews! They make my day :) Hope you all continue enjoying story; I'm having a blast writing it!

Just a heads up, the flashback in the middle of the chapter was taken and edited quite a bit from the original _Days._ I thought that would be a fun ad-in.


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